In Light Through a Cat's Ear, prize-winning poet Victoria Garton's sharp images reveal startling, yet apt connections between animal and human worlds, then leap beyond. In "Natura," a "calico" positions "herself so the sun comes pink through her ear," and a "downed cicada" and "black vultures" hint at humanity's foibles. In section two, "Important Arguments," note poems, "Red Sports Car" and "Loneliness/Aloneness." Poems rise to the sublime in the final section, "The Changing of the Gods." Garton's humor and perceptions not only evoke our smiles - but à la Emily Dickinson - raise the hairs on the napes of our necks.-Lindsey Martin-Bowen, author, CASHING CHECKS with Jim MorrisonTake your time. These are not poems to hurry through. Garton brings a lifetime of experience as rancher, teacher, traveler, and stroke survivor. In poem after poem, she accomplishes what she proposes in "Minuscule Disruption of the Universe: " "Beauty writ large / for those / who do not blink / or fail to see / what they see." Garton sees and evokes meaning through details, like "jellyfish like flying saucers / in a dimly lit ocean," and "I'd never had a coat whose satin lining could have decorated a casket," and "Have you noticed that the moon is not photogenic?" In three choreographed sections, Garton nails her keen observations, reflects on memories, and reveals her sassiness. You'll be glad to see things her way.-Barbara Loots, author, Road TripCome immerse yourself in the art gallery of Light Through a Cat's Ear. Themed sections offer vivid images, evocative narratives, and startling insights. And the range of Garton's work! From offering redemption in "Twirling the Plunger," "where did I learn to dig deep and toss away what would gag," to making a childhood memory loom ominously in "Pool of Mercury," to pastoral grace in "Blackberry Blessing," "may you go ripe with stained fingertips, berries and dreams still to pick," to unflinching reflections on relationships, stroke recovery, and aging, Garton's compact linguistic portraits linger long after reading.-Mary Silwance, author, We Remember Ourselves, editor, Of Our Own Accord: Women's Embodied Poetry
