Willett whirs and waxes rhapsodic, yet never writes from disembodied fancy. He converses with what he classifies knowing that, if we’re lucky, our understanding falls within the margin of error.
Read MoreGlynn Young for Tweetspeak →
These poems by Willett remind us that the elegy is a living poetic form, needed as much now as it ever was. Perhaps even more.
Read MoreLee Rossi for Rain Taxi
Is Willett a Christian writer, or someone who uses Christian tropes to explore his (sometimes) spiritual experience?
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