Liz Robbins's poems have what only the very best poems have: a sturdy toughness undergirding their tenderness. Though the body spins dervishly-almost blindly- for love and beauty, it must also accept the jolts of pain, of physical labor. As with the flowering pear trees in ""On the Verge of Spring,"" we are ever "" hopeful,/ hopeless-with [the] smell of sweat suggestive/ of work and of fear."" There's a refreshing honesty in these poems as well as a tremendous amount of skill with a sensuous musical language. Each poem is a delight, something to savor.-Nance Van Winckel | Hope as the World Is a Scorpion Fish by Liz Robbins, Paperback | Indigo Chapters