The poems in City of Destiny are immersed in their environments, immersed in the observations and feelings of their poet. David Lloyd Whited lived all but two years of his life in the Pacific Northwest and he is of the sky, earth and water here, as inhabitants of those elements-including salmon, herons, eagles, mice & raccoons-are his fellow travelers. The book’s title, City of Destiny, may give the reader false expectations, for while dozens of the poems happen among the poor and beleaguered of Tacoma (once called The City of Destiny, ) the majority of the poems happen in the natural world of Vashon Island. Destiny is everywhere. The contrasts between the two environments and the author’s evolving tensions with them are the central dynamic of the book. A big difference is in the city the tensions are mostly external and expansive, looking at human conditions outside Tacoma and across the world, while on the island he’s working with personal relations, with deeper inner conflicts and perspectives. The poet can look like a city but he has a wild-in-places island inside him. The emotional intensity of David’s work and the precise twists in ordinary details and language are so powerful. It can seem too easy, framed in an odd dialect, darlin’, homey but seldom without a hint of irony or bitterness. David means everything he says, exactly. In these poems David often speaks directly, personally (sometimes leaving a little space between story and teller.) He writes of every aspect of his life on the island: what’s happening inside the house and the relationship, whats’ going on outside on the creek, what’s storming inside the poet’s heart, brain, etc. He has the skill of calling up language that’s honest and still poetic, which requires precision and bravery. An unlocked door could be as much a warning as a sign of generosity-everyday heartbreak & despair, everyday questions that always go unanswered. The poems in City of Destiny are gritty and emotional, the flint-keen language driven by the poet’s inner ferocity and sorrow. Nothing indulgent or weepy here, with David’s precise control of language and tone. This is core poetry, poetry of place, poetry of human condition. He knows he doesn’t have the answers and almost believes no one does, Years before his sudden and unexpected death near the end of 2015, David had told closest friends that he wanted this manuscript, assembled in 1999, published. He is the author of 12 other poetry collections, including Olde Man Coyote Goes to Towne (nine muses books), 3 & 1 (Red Sky Press) and The Elevens (Black Heron Press.) For decades he worked for the Puyallup Tribe as a planner, grant writer and administrator. All royalties for this book go to Marian Whited on Judd Creek.