Here and There

About the Book

I. HERE AND THERE, Marie Reilly’s fifth collection of poems, considers the grandeur of turbulence in the natural world. The poet ponders the piquancy of moments, at hand in the southwest desert and in memory, disrupted by a beauty that speaks of eternal forces. The poems reveal the human eye and soul witnessing the beauty in natural disturbances. II. In the first segment, titled Outer Space, “Blood / Music” epitomizes the prevailing sense of the collection as a whoe. Vividness in nature is reflected in the excitement of the human spirit. Blood / Music The eye spies a deepening-pink lily on the pond, poised and cool under simmering sun—when a music roils the ground, bestirs the green reflection of blue. Oh! It is the blood that is a-swirl—internal settings command the song. And oh! Hummingbirds dance to it. The red they see makes them whirl, a reddening-pink they pay obeisance to. I know it is so: In the Indian paintbrush there is no music. Yet when I spy the high color, sense the coursing of blood in my body, a flow and ebb of fluids blue and red—music appears! In that moment, the spirit, a universal soul, dances and prays and resounds! *** Shifting to Inner Space, the poet, in “To the End,” admits to a compromised ambivalence about mortality. To the End Death. Certainly not. I do not believe in it. I will not prepare for it. No matter one’s age, death is unfair and it’s too bad. Oh I am old; too bad. But I am bold. I stay in the parade. I march with dieticians, social workers, patient representatives. Along the route I sing hymns, or hum, in step with chaplains, physical therapists, nurses, aides. And defy death. *** “Unscented Balm,” in the third section, titled Close to Home, quietly celebrates the peaceful character of domesticity. Unscented Balm We set the table for eight, served the fare. Hosted new friends, toasted the oldest. Sang, chatted and supped, never rested. We served second helpings, refreshed the drinks, tended to special requests. In easy chairs now, we are alone. BALM Silence soothes the ears, the soul, the body weary of animation. *** The fourth section, Out of Place, addresses the jarring presence of dissonance in the world. In “Flight Path: New York City,” the site of the demolished World Trade Center transfixes the a passenger casting an eye out the window of a plane approaching La Guardia airport. Flight Path: New York City She is at the edge of the great Awful, the deep Awful. Imperfectly shielded by the wall of the aircraft, unable to be unaware of the horror. She cannot deny its nearness. The view of the limitless wound, seen from the window of seat 12F, sears the soul. *** Finally, in the section titled Not So Faraway, the poet turns to the hopeful. In “Metasomatics of the Art Gallery, El Paso 2003,” she contemplates the human impulse to reconcile differences. Metasomatics of the Art Gallery: El Paso, 2003 Oh the honey color of the floor. Oh the vanilla of the lights. Oh the sweetness on the walls of gray and deeper gray. Oh the smack of V’s in black along the trusses. Oh the hope in the festival of forty years of Chamizal. Oh the fade of day once blue, through the transom. Celebrate a peaceful border and the light from north that washes over the vivid, healing color, pattern, fantasy of the lush brush in the hand of Rosemary, daughter of McLaughlin the sailor, granddaughter, grandniece of Irish storytellers, who testifies in paint to fancies that did not displease her mother. Dark memory, or loss, or even anger—hers and ours—transforms and heals in the gallery of honey colored floors, vanilla lights, sweet things on gray, smacks of black, site of celebration of forty years, under fading day, at Chamizal a testament to the health of peace: exchange of conservation ethics, heritages, and determination. *** III. As in Marie Reilly’s four previous collections,

About the Author

Retired to New Mexico from New York City, Marie Reilly finds creative engagement and intellectual renewal. Southwest vistas and newfound powers of the pen lead her along a philosophical path that delights the senses. A thunderstorm or a common fly serves to sharpen an understanding of what it means to be alive. In this collection, the human eye and soul witness the grandeur of turbulence in the world. Dr. Reilly lives in Las Cruces with Donald Busch and their cat, Abby.