Review by A. N. DeJesus The relationship between landscape and self-identity are often more deeply intertwined than we can imagine. In Flatlands, Williams explores
Today the cardinal in the branches is the bird, but not exactly, my father saw. Few who can remember him are left, as there
North is sweet to iron, and iron is sweet to the tongue, is splintered in veins, under skin. Iron sleeps in the north, under