Sue Sinclair's poems speak from that precise place where our perception of the world and our capacity for language meet and embrace, where our sense of experience goes to get sharpened and refreshed. That experience might involve the inner lives of clouds, the flourishing and passing of a tulip, the evocative scent of wolf willow, or the intricate arts of Bach and Virginia Woolf. These poems are deft, musical, and quick in the moment, alive to the sensuous surface and the meditative depth, their antennae fully extended.