A poem is an energy capsule, a container of what’s not to be contained. The more honed and polished, the more expression can explode into various forms of awe. It’s not the spontaneous that’s able to move us most, but what’s been most considered. Amelia Williams’ poems marking this rare place, her home territory, remind us of poetry’s best intentions, for she practices well its art. By wrapping the rapture of her poetry in containers of bamboo, repurposed boxes, metal and fibers, in installations meant to be finally enraptured by the natural world that inspired them, she makes a worthy offering meant to vanish over time. We are lucky to have this book, these printed artifacts, these poems that name each thing they perceive and therefore hold them close. –Cathryn Hankla