Like Elizabeth Bishop, Hayden Saunier is a poet of place. She is a poet of domesticity. For her, home is anywhere she is: a highway motel, a minimart, a discount super store, a stone house. Like Bishop, she is precise with details, but she transfigures her details into something larger, something radiant. Her pantry, she says, is full, and she delights in every item, remembering at the outset to invite the reader in: "Sit down and eat." She welcomes us into her world, both external and interior, tame and wild. "It's magic," she says, but warns, "It's possible this house won't hold." But it does, and so do these evocative poems. By the time we take our leave, we have been touched by their magic.
Hayden Saunier's poems are sure bets for an encounter with the poetic. That is, a way of entering a world through a poet's eye: a real world, keenly observed, charted, in both close detail and wide angles, and delivered to us in one suspenseful line after the other. These poems connect us to both the micro and macro levels of living and bring us back home to our place in our minds, bodies, and the natural world.