Publisher: WordTech Communications (June 27, 2014)
Reviewed by g emil reutter
There are some poets who become stuck in the murky past, never wanting to leave the warm bubbling places of their comfort zone. Bill Wunder is not one of those poets. Hands Turning the Earth is a collection of poems that include the past always moving toward the future.
Wunder writes of riding bikes in the fog of mosquito trucks, his mother cooking pot roast in a Levittown kitchen, of Agent Orange falling upon him from the sky in Vietnam and the cancer ward at the V.A. hospital. Wunder is insightful, deliberate as he tells us of birds in the Vermont Mountains, of the Promised Land in sobering lines, “to wither and fade, never to see the milk and honey of spring, another Moses, Forsaken.”
The poet discovers the need to believe again in the birches of Vermont in the poem, Walking my Dog in Vermont. It really isn’t a poem about walking a dog, but of more, the need to believe. An excerpt:
The sky has shattered
and tumbled down
like when you said you no longer
loved me and moved out.
The entire world crackled
and remains in pieces.
The birches have shed the ice
but are hunched, one by one, each
A monument to trauma.
Pablo pulls us home
to the warmth of wood stove,
comfort of rocking chair
and dependability of books.
I follow needing
Something to believe in again.
And here is the essence of Hands Turning the Earth, the need for something to believe in, something to move on toward.
You can check out the book here: http://www.amazon.com/Hands-Turning-Earth-Bill-Wunder/dp/1625490941
-g emil reutter lives and writes in the Fox Chase neighborhood of Philadelphia, Pa. (USA) http://gereutter.wordpress.com/