Seeing the World with One Eye

Chris Knight is copy editor of the National Post.

Longer than haiku, yet sparser than traditional verse, the poems in this
volume are referred to as ghazals—although, technically, they are
free-verse ghazals, since the term refers to a Middle Eastern style of
lyric poetry with a definite rhyme scheme, and these 48 poems do not
follow a set pattern.

Edward Gates uses this form to portray calm vignettes in which nature
is overlaid with emotion—at times, it is difficult to tell where one
ends and the other begins, as in poem VIII: “rise like a bear shaking
shaking off a winter’s sleep / listen to the metal on the furnace
change shape / the rhythm the rise / and fall of waves / leaving is like
listening / to the flight of geese in the fall.” Or more briefly, in
poem XXII: “the cedars drip with joy.”

There is a keening quality to many of these poems, like a sadness that
cannot be named. In poem XXXVII we read: “there is no need for names /
the flowers grow wild by my door / earth cries / and cries / light for a
time woven / into human form.” These final two lines are repeated in
the collection’s last poem, and the idea of a continuity between human
and nature can be found throughout.

One could wish for more from each poem; at a dozen or so lines each,
they often hint at more involved narratives but do not fully explore
them. But these are not obviously truncated or incomplete
works—rather, the poet has chosen to take a narrow focus, and seems
content to remain specific rather than general.