Anne M. Doe Overstreet's poems will take you from deserts to constellations, pomegranates to milk & brandy, in language so flawless you won't want to let it go.
My sister tells a story about a swan and a jeweled strand.
I have never thought of myself as a bird before.
A heron stabs after the half moon among the current,
then lifts off, carving into the horizon.
The sea shirs the sand where my foot rests.
Caught in the mirror, her daughter blooms pale,
hung from the morning like a pearl pendant.
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Anne M. Doe Overstreet is a poet and editor. Her writing has appeared in Asheville Poetry Review, Nimrod International Journal of Prose and Poetry, DMQ Review, and Cranky, among others. She and her husband, novelist and film critic Jeffrey Overstreet, reside in Shoreline, Washington.
To love well is to offer one's full attention. To serve others is often a matter of drawing their attention to the beauties--broken, wounded, suggestive, profound--that visit us endlessly. Ann Overstreet loves well, and she serves well; she is the witness of the dawn, and of our desired awakening.
—Scott Cairns, author of Compass of Affection
If you love poetry, you recognize the magic of words that sift the world into its particulates. Anne Overstreet employs the skilled chemistry that swells the words back into realities so startling and new that no object or person remains unchanged.
—Luci Shaw, author of Harvesting Fog
These poems shimmer with gossamer lightness but also possess the strength and sinews of hard-won wisdom and what Henry James called felt life.
—Gregory Wolfe, Editor at Image Journal
"I look up to take it in," Anne Overstreet writes, and so she does: Dead moths "go to dust / on the windowsill, a wing fading / to a translucent brown sail, prepared / around the absence of body." She takes it all in, and gives it back to us.
—John Wilson, Editor at Books and Culture