Michael Collier’s poems are like a living film of the image of one’s past. In rich detail, they bring to life the geography of childhood-commonplace events that have a unique texture of one’s own-a dream of flying, a secret obsession, a school pageant, a jam session in the garage. The memories are folded into the heart, but with an inevitable sense of loss, a sense of capturing the moment held in the air, the illusion of something whole, something true.

Water and light are constant images in this book, apt conduits to the past. Memories are refracted in the faces of old regrets. But they are not wholly lost for they inform the present; they continue beating loud. The Folded Heart is a lyrical compression of language, precise, intensely felt.