"The poems in Fleda Brown Jackson’s second book . . . exhibit the kind of present-tense clarity one associates with Elizabeth Bishop . . . . To read these poems is to look through a newly washed window; the world is strangely bright and, at the same time, frighteningly familiar. This is a difficult effect to achieve—one that only succeeds when it is not an effect, but something effortless. In Jackson’s hands, effort is invisible."

—The Georgia Review

"…I trust I’ve made it clear how highly I regard these poems. To take a character whom most would think either deranged or so deeply damaged as to be irreparable—in any case, so extreme as to deserve only that sensationalistic attention found in TV “magazines”—and instead to see her involvement with the broader range of humanity seems to me a splendid achievement."

—Gerald Stern