The author's fourth collection of sonnets. For poet Steven Nightingale, the sonnet is not just a poetic form, it is the form of our dreams: the dream that poetry can take the mind home to original beauties; that the life of each of us is bound to a joy at the midmost of the world; that language can tease a bright reality from the catastrophes of the day; that we may learn to change ourselves, in hopes of becoming hidden sidekicks of light, useful, practical, bemused.
Steven Nightingale is an author of books of poetry, novels, and essays. He divides his time between the San Francisco Bay Area; Reno, Nevada; and Granada, Spain.
There is a natural ecstatic in Steven Nightingale, whom one might situate on a scale somewhere between Emerson and Rumi. And there is also a craftsman-with a jeweler's or watchmaker's meticulousness-who wants to make the sonnet mimic his wonder at the architecture of things. They are both very present in this, his third sonnet sequence and they make a labor of praise and praise out of labor. --Robert Hass Former U.S. Poet Laureate
Here in these 99 sonnets, we are invited into a poet's imagination as it is fulfilled through a singular form, which Steven Nightingale inhabits and uses to enact the various arguments and arrangements of a life. In case we've forgotten the examples of Shakespeare and Petrarch, we are here reminded that form, even one form, can allow a supple intelligence to display its full range and power even as it invokes the body in all its wonders and joys. Here, we find joined the force of ear and mind, both bent entirely upon delight. --Katharine Coles Utah Poet Laureate
Steven Nightingale is faithful to his name, being the invisible singer of sonnets disguised in form but overheard as a master should be. He addresses the world. Steven is a throwback to art with the morning air of reality. --Willis Barnstone Author of 501 Sonnets
