{"product_id":"walking-to-marthas-vineyard-isbn-9780375710018","title":"Walking to Martha's Vineyard","description":"In this radiant new collection, Franz Wright shares his regard for life in all its forms and his belief in the promise of blessing and renewal. As he watches the “Resurrection of the little apple tree outside \/ my window,” he shakes off his fear of mortality, concluding “what death . . . There is only \/ mine \/ or yours,– \/ but the world \/ will be filled with the living.” In prayerlike poems he invokes the one “who spoke the world \/ into being” and celebrates a dazzling universe–snowflakes descending at nightfall, the intense yellow petals of the September sunflower, the planet adrift in a blizzard of stars, the simple mystery of loving other people. As Wright overcomes a natural tendency toward loneliness and isolation, he gives voice to his hope for “the only animal that commits suicide,” and, to our deep pleasure, he arrives at a place of gratitude that is grounded in the earth and its moods.Franz Wright was born in Vienna in 1953 and grew up in the Northwest, the Midwest, and Northern California. His most recent works include \u003ci\u003eThe Beforelife \u003c\/i\u003e(which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize) and \u003ci\u003eIll Lit: Selected \u0026amp; New Poems. \u003c\/i\u003eHe has been the recipient of two National Endowment for the Arts grants, a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Whiting Fellowship, and the PEN\/Voelcker Prize, among other honors. He works at the Edinburg Center for Mental Health and the Center for Grieving Children and Teenagers and lives in Waltham, Massachusetts, with his wife, Elizabeth.\"Walking to Martha’s Vineyard\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd the ocean smells like lilacs in late August–how\u003cbr\u003e                 is that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe light there muted (silver) as remembered light.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDo you have any children?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo, lucky for them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBad things happen when you get hands, dolphin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eCan you tell us a little bit about your upbringing?\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere is no down or up in space or in the womb.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf they’d stabbed me to death on the day I was born, it\u003cbr\u003e             would have been an act of mercy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLike the light the last room, the windowless room at the \u003cbr\u003e             end, must look out on.  Gold-tinged, blue\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003evapor trail breaking up now like the white line you see,\u003cbr\u003e             after driving all day, when your eyes close;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003evapor trail breaking up now between huge clouds resembling\u003cbr\u003e           a kind of Mt. Rushmore of your parents’ faces.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd these untraveled windy back roads here–cotton\u003cbr\u003e           leaves blowing past me, in the long blue\u003cbr\u003e           horizontal light–\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif I am on an island, how is it they go on forever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis sky like an infinite tenderness, I have caught\u003cbr\u003e          glimpses of that, often, so often, and never yet have\u003cbr\u003e          I described it, I can’t, somehow, I never will.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow is it that I didn’t spend my whole life being happy,  loving\u003cbr\u003e          other human beings’ faces.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd wave after wave, the ocean smells like lilacs in\u003cbr\u003e         late August.","brand":"Knopf","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305161969893,"sku":"NP9780375710018","price":16.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780375710018.jpg?v=1767743567","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/walking-to-marthas-vineyard-isbn-9780375710018","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}