book | A Hundred Falling Veils

Posts Tagged ‘book’

One Endless Supply

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged book, memories on August 4, 2020| 2 Comments »

slipping again

out of those same dog eared thoughts

faded rose petals

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New Book, Hush, Available Now!

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged book, Hush on June 19, 2020| 10 Comments »

“Here Rosemerry shows us how one might endeavor to be the peace we want in the world. One comes away remembering that tending is at the heart of all healing. Because thorn bush. Because great blue heron. Because puddles.”
— Wendy Videlock, author of Nevertheless

Hush Front Cover JPEG

My new book, Hush, is just out! Winner of the Halcyon Prize for a collection of poems about human ecology, it’s a book-long love song to humanity and the natural world. It’s driven by curiosity and a willingness to dance in the unknown. The poems celebrate the broken, the lowly, the humble, the parched, the lost–and find beauty at every turn. And it features a fabulous foreword by Craig Childs, author of Virga and Bone, Apocalyptic Planet and The Secret Knowledge of Water.

You can see the book and purchase it on my website–and I will sign it for you! Or of course you can order it from your local bookseller (please support them) or from Amazon.

And you can hear me read a few poems from it in this reading I did a few weeks ago with Danusha Laméris and James Crews.

I totally believe in giving poems away—as you know—and I will continue to send you poems every day. AND, I would really appreciate it if you would support this poetry practice by purchasing a book. It would mean a lot to me.

Also, if you do order Hush, I would really appreciate it if you would consider writing a review for it on Goodreads or Amazon.

If you want to set up a reading for your organization, send me a note!

love, Rosemerry

“With Hush, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer once again turns her attention toward insights gleaned from daily life, trusting that everything we encounter, from evergreens and bluebonnets to snapdragons and an achy back after shoveling snow, has something to teach us about being human. Throughout each of these exquisite, open-hearted, often sensual poems, she brings us along as she finds a kind of “renegade beauty” wherever she looks. “Let’s go outside,” she writes, “and praise/the light till the light is gone, and then praise the dark,” modeling for us just the kind of radical gratitude we need in our literature, and in our lives right now.”
— James Crews, editor of Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection