evokes tremendous life force in the conundrums of dying he contemplated in this final book.
"After I am gone and the ache begins/to cease," opens the title poem about wife Thea Temple, "and the slow erosion I felt,/being older than you, invades you too,/you'll come to see that an image of the desert/is the memory of water, like remembering//when we were walking in beautiful Barcelona/and you said you thought the trees were gods/because they were rooted in earth/and flew in the air and magically made food/out of light and made the air we breathe."
from San Antonio Express-News: Review: 'The Memory of Water: Poems by Jack Myers'
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