Poetry and full-color art transform personal thoughts into wonderment.
Drago’s debut poetry collection opens with a bang: A homeless man dies on the street, and no one cares. Passersby step over him, assuming he’s sleeping. Accompanied by artwork depicting a dark, almost post-apocalyptic cityscape, the poem becomes a moving elegy not just to the dead man, but to the slow death of the world he left. The narrator eulogizes him with a simple phrase: “His existence is a lesson of their greatest fear / Yet what he has learned they will never know.” A sophisticated interplay of religion and science accompanies more traditional examinations of loneliness, despair, hope and love. While the subject matter may be familiar, the delivery is original and startling, fluid in execution, mesmerizing. The broad scope of the author’s source material doesn’t diminish the collection’s intimacy. A poem about suicide that reads almost like an old French song neatly precedes a bittersweet piece about surrendering youth while longing for one’s childhood home. Drago’s gift is her ability to find the intimate, the human in each experience, whether she’s describing the sounds of a house at night, the lives of a redwood and a weeping willow, the longing for a lover or a lone explorer who does not realize his adventures could spell death for others. The poems in this collection sing with life and vitality. The fluid, evanescent, often elegiac verse shares space with an extraordinary collection of visual images in full color, ranging from landscapes filled with unexpected light, to roads to nowhere, to one particularly transfixing image of wiry tendrils linking an outstretched hand to an upraised, blank face.
An exultant volume of thoughts and impressions on religion, science and humanity.