Reviews

By turns enchanting and bracing, these poems are threaded through with spirituality conveyed by concrete images of both nature's beauty and aging: periwinkle violets, bud-shaped wombs, pendulous breasts. They are wry but also contemplative about growing old, evocative of a speaker at peace with the downturns that the years bring. Simultaneously, they are full of the joy and optimism brought about by simply being alive. Loomis's voice is vibrant and dynamic, even as she bemoans the inevitable physical decline that is a necessary element of living and, as Freud observed, of merely being born. A treasurable manual for life.

— José Sotolongo, author of the novel The Optimistic Cuban

Fragments of Myself is, as the title suggests, a collection of self-aware, reflective writing. Fay Loomis is a keen observer of small details, of both the natural world and of a quiet home life, and she bundles these into compact poems that are as honest as they are concise. The speaker of these poems advises, “do not search for what you’ve lost” (The Last Storyteller), and the tone of the book is that of hope in the face of setbacks and enjoyment of whatever one can appreciate in the mystery of everyday life. In the end, “Mother Earth will claim her due / God’s song will be my song” (Ode to the Bhagavad Gita).

— Meg Freer, author of Still Life Waiting: Notes on a Ghost Town and A Man of Integrity