A bit of all over the place, but in a good way. ( )

from poetry foundation:

Naomi Shihab Nye was born in St. Louis, Missouri in 1952. Her father was a Palestinian refugee and her mother an American of German and Swiss descent, and Nye spent her adolescence in both Jerusalem and San Antonio, Texas. Her experience of both cultural difference and different cultures has influenced much of her work. Known for poetry that lends a fresh perspective to ordinary events, people, and objects, Nye has said that, for her, “the primary source of poetry has always been local life, random characters met on the streets, our own ancestry sifting down to us through small essential daily tasks.”

i have been reading shihab nye's poetry for years, but i have never read a full collection from her. you & yours was a very good read. as noted in the bit of biography i excerpted above, in this collection shihab nye takes ordinary moments and people and makes them memorable, beautiful, heartbreaking. shihab nye plays with form and style, and offers moments of humour along with her more serious ideas.

my favourite poem is titled My Perfect Stranger, which is about a 5yo girl occupying the seat in front of hers on a flight to san francisco. they also share middle eastern heritage, on a plane, post-9/11.

My Perfect Stranger

The little girl at the airport gate in Cincinnati had a tuft of
vivid pink ponytail sticking straight up out of her brown-
haired head. I wondered how hard she'd begged to get her
mother to do that. She was about five, wearing a lacy white
party dress. When we boarded the plane she turned up sitting
right in front of me. She poked her cute little face through
the crack between the seats. "Do you have a table that
comes out of your arm?" "Say what?" She had the bulkhead
seat with an armrest that opened for the hidden tray to pop
out. "No," I laughed. "I just have the regular table that folds
down. "Oh, too bad." When the flight attendant gave
safety instructions over the loudspeaker, the girl chimed out
loud responses. "You're welcome!" to "Thanks for flying
with us." "Hope you have a nice flight too." Her mother
tried to shush her. "But you told me to answer people," the
girl protested. The mama said, "That lady's talking to
everyone. She's not just talking to you." The plane took off
toward San Francisco and the little girl looked down on
Cincinatti. "Oh mama!" she cried. "We forget we live in a
zigzag world. Look how it's shining!" Tears filled my eyes.
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you get to fly behind a poet. The
girl turned the pages of exotic merchandise in the airport
catalog. "Mama, someday if we're rich, can we buy all
this?" Oh honey, I thought, you're rich right now. She stuck
her face through the crack again. "Find me!" she ordered.
Meaning, which side of the seat will I peek around next?
Then she stared at me very hard. "I think you need a
picture. You look tired. Could I draw you one? What do
you want? You look like you need a tree." But she drew a
blue flower, with green leaves, as tall as the person next to it,
who happened to be wearing glasses like mine. Then she
asked how to spell my name and wrote TO NAOMI, LOVE
LAYLA across the top. Oh Layla. . .I wanted to whisper to
her that we shared more than a flight. The familiar accent of
the Middle East flavored her mother's voice. When I was
little, I wished my name were Layla too. But what would
have happened had I announced our ethnic link to such an
outspoken little artist? Her voice, like a flute, might have
exclaimed it, "We're Arabs!" and we were on a plane. I
didn't mention it. But Layla, you charmed me. (By the way,
I kept your flower.) ( )

4Q,2P (my VOYA codes)

Each poem is a story and a snippet of time. I got lost in some and had a hard time engaging in others. I loved how Nye's writing and tone seemed to change with the poem like in Don Chu Go. The reader in my head even took on the character which enhanced the reading experience. Some poems seemed comprehensible but were steeped in history and culture and were harder to grasp a hold of. I could read through a few and then be completely stopped by one for a lack of understanding or a resonating that required a deep and reflective pause. ( )

3Q 2P

Poetry is not an art form that I particularly enjoy. It really depends on the authors of the poems. That being said, I enjoyed Nye's poems though some went over my head. The way Nye uses words to conveys such deep emotions was really surprising and refreshing. Of course, some of her poems may need more than one read to understand the emotions and meaning behind them. ( )

This poetry collection is full of many things: introspection, political criticism, gardening, crafting, growing up, culture clashes, war, hurt feelings, and even home renovation. It's written in several free verse styles; dense blocks of text, zig-zags that could be read aloud by more than one person, and narrow winding columns. The narration ranges from prim professional ("Why I Could Not Accept Your Invitation"), to clipped back-woods speech ("Canoeing with Alligators") just as natural as can be. Because of the versatile topics, voices and formats I believe this volume is 5Q and a 4P, it has "broad general or genre YA appeal." ( )