Cedar Creek Publishing
A Virginia Publisher of Virginia Books
Two Little Girls
POETRY
Publication Date - January 1, 2012
Two Little Girls in a Wading Pool
by Sara M. Robinson
ISBN 978-0-9839192-2-3
Paperback 6x9 168 Pages $12
Wholesale from Ingram & Publisher
Online at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, IndieBound.org
ADVANCE REVIEW
In her poem "Boardwalk," Sara Robinson describes, with her usual visual acuity
and meditative suppleness, citizens of her beloved Elkton, Virginia, who are
"keepers / of voices who sing of things they are / and things they are not."
What is true of her generously imagined townspeople is true of Robinson herself.
In this debut volume, she sings of what she is.keen historian of particular
people in a particular place, a little girl growing up into visionary adulthood,
sympathetic friend and family member, attentive observer of local flora and
fauna, both animal and human.and of what she is not, what is not part of her
immediate sensory experience but what nevertheless presents itself abundantly
to her capable understanding: eruptions of violence, past and present; other
landscapes, domestic and foreign; other selfscapes in people she treats with
compassionate dignity. Perceptual traveler, efficient narrator, fearless
experimenter, Sara Robinson gives us precious treasure here.
--STEPHEN CUSHMAN
Robert C. Taylor Professor American Literature, Poetry (UVA)
Poetry Collections: Riffraf (2011), Heart Island (2006),
Cussing Lessons (2002), Blue Pajamas (1998)
SAMPLE POEM FROM BOOK
Leaving Elkton
I cried and then sighed at their graves.
Deep in the earth in their private little chambers,
I wondered if they heard me.
I came through on my way west.
Hardly recognized the town. Empty streets and vacant lots.
Old storefronts hang around as they have nowhere else to go.
Drove past where I grew up. Glanced around the neighborhood.
I don’t know anyone here.
Pressed for time–like I thought it mattered,
I headed for the cemetery–it was only a short…a short detour.
A cemetery for a small town. My parents are there.
There were spots reserved for them, but I passed on mine.
No one thought I would return, so today I’m passing through.
At the gravesites I say some words, catching them up with my life.
I guessed they’d want to know.
But then I didn’t expect any response.
Back in the car–back on the road, I hear my mother say:
You come back soon now, you hear?
I see the sun due west in front of the car.
If I speed up I might cross a state line before it sets.
Before I hear her say it again.
Publication Date - January 1, 2012
Two Little Girls in a Wading Pool
by Sara M. Robinson
ISBN 978-0-9839192-2-3
Paperback 6x9 168 Pages $12
Wholesale from Ingram & Publisher
Online at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, IndieBound.org
ADVANCE REVIEW
In her poem "Boardwalk," Sara Robinson describes, with her usual visual acuity
and meditative suppleness, citizens of her beloved Elkton, Virginia, who are
"keepers / of voices who sing of things they are / and things they are not."
What is true of her generously imagined townspeople is true of Robinson herself.
In this debut volume, she sings of what she is.keen historian of particular
people in a particular place, a little girl growing up into visionary adulthood,
sympathetic friend and family member, attentive observer of local flora and
fauna, both animal and human.and of what she is not, what is not part of her
immediate sensory experience but what nevertheless presents itself abundantly
to her capable understanding: eruptions of violence, past and present; other
landscapes, domestic and foreign; other selfscapes in people she treats with
compassionate dignity. Perceptual traveler, efficient narrator, fearless
experimenter, Sara Robinson gives us precious treasure here.
--STEPHEN CUSHMAN
Robert C. Taylor Professor American Literature, Poetry (UVA)
Poetry Collections: Riffraf (2011), Heart Island (2006),
Cussing Lessons (2002), Blue Pajamas (1998)
SAMPLE POEM FROM BOOK
Leaving Elkton
I cried and then sighed at their graves.
Deep in the earth in their private little chambers,
I wondered if they heard me.
I came through on my way west.
Hardly recognized the town. Empty streets and vacant lots.
Old storefronts hang around as they have nowhere else to go.
Drove past where I grew up. Glanced around the neighborhood.
I don’t know anyone here.
Pressed for time–like I thought it mattered,
I headed for the cemetery–it was only a short…a short detour.
A cemetery for a small town. My parents are there.
There were spots reserved for them, but I passed on mine.
No one thought I would return, so today I’m passing through.
At the gravesites I say some words, catching them up with my life.
I guessed they’d want to know.
But then I didn’t expect any response.
Back in the car–back on the road, I hear my mother say:
You come back soon now, you hear?
I see the sun due west in front of the car.
If I speed up I might cross a state line before it sets.
Before I hear her say it again.
