A TREE PLACE

``Technique'': ``I watched a spider wrap her gnat/with such of flood of tidyness./She twiddled all her nimble feet/And seemed to do a dance in place/While tying round a stream of thread/As pale and white as soft-spun milk,/So careful not to miss one step/Or spill a single/Drop/Of silk!'' Levy might be describing her own craft; like her first book of brief poems about the natural world (I'm Going to Pet a Worm Today, 1991), these 40 new ones capture a childlike sensibility with exquisite economy, artistry, and care. Levy's fresh, clear-eyed vision of little things—``Dandelion Roots'' (``muscle and lace''), a snake writing its own initial, or a ``Gleam Team'' of fireflies (``A double dip of glimmer'')—offer a delightful series of humor- touched epiphanies and insights into how the most ordinary things may be extraordinary and how a poet's words can reveal that quality. Sabuda's occasional soft pencil sketches enhance the format without intruding on the quiet mood of the verse. (Poetry. 5+)