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@Download Ebook Ë What Flies Away ½ What Flies Away tells the story in poetry of the author s mother s descent into Alzheimer s, her father s sudden death and the miracle of her daughter s birth Campanella received the Poet Laureate Award twice for two poems The Chase and How to Grieve, both of which are included in the collection My heart broke, broke , then was transfixed by joy as I read this magnificent book of poetry by Ann Campanella, twice recipient of the Poet Laureate Award, the highest honor of the North Carolina Poetry Society.Her collection cycles through life and death and birth and rebirth, chronicling her mother s Alzheimer s, father s death, loss of beloved horse Crimson, and after multiple miscarriages miraculous birth of daughter Sydney The author deservedly received the Laureate Award for these My heart broke, broke , then was transfixed by joy as I read this magnificent book of poetry by Ann Campanella, twice recipient of the Poet Laureate Award, the highest honor of the North Carolina Poetry Society.Her collection cycles through life and death and birth and rebirth, chronicling her mother s Alzheimer s, father s death, loss of beloved horse Crimson, and after multiple miscarriages miraculous birth of daughter Sydney The author deservedly received the Laureate Award for these two included poems The ChaseWe d try to catch her beforeshe got to the door dressed in layersof sweaters or nothing at allbut socks and a bra She d call out like a kid,I m going sailing with Dad Back then, I didn t know to smile andwave,slip out the back, meet her at the door Why Ann she would have said,the lake evaporating from her mind,Come in It s so nice to see you My father tried to reason with her.Dear, it s cold out.The lake is miles away.Your father won t be there.He was buried years ago.She d raise her hand to her mouth,No one told me he died as tears sprang to her eyes.I d lead her back to her roomwhere clothes lay scatteredlike lost feathers.For a while she read my faceas if it were a map to her world At dinner, my father and Iexchanged lookswhen she poured pepperinto her water,stirred it with a fork.Something funny s going onaround here, she said.Her meat and peas grew cold.When we moved her to the homeI propped a smile on my lips,learned to speak a new language.On a weekend outing she announced,I m never going back to that prison I said, How bout we do something fun.She clapped her hands, Let s go for aride I drove her down dark roads back to thehome.In the car, she squeezed my hand,You re the only one I trust.These days, words escape her.Unable to walk, she sits for hours,her legs still as some forgotten thought.Head bobbing, the weightof her chin pulls her sidewaysuntil her trunk restsagainst the edge of her chair.What I d give for another chanceto chase her down the drive.When I caught her, I d slip my handin hers, smile for real and say,Let s go sailing on this fine day How To GrieveFind a pasture where an old horse grazes.Open the gate and walk to a far corner ofthe field,lie down in the weeds Let your skin gohot then cold.The horse will eye you warily, he mighteven runthe other way Don t look at him.Just lie there like a corpsewaiting for the dirt to be thrown.When you begin to itch and your hairfeels alive, sit up and cross your legs Keep your headdown.Study the crosshatch of grass beside yourankle,the tiny black bugs that float and landon your hands When you glance upthe horse will be standing like a statue,neck raised, ears pricked.He will step toward you and stop.Don t move or call to him Simply sensethe curve of his haunches, the sturdyplantof his hooves Take the carrot from yourpocket,caress its damp shape Snap it in twoif you want The horse, a hesitant, eagerbundle of muscle, will step forward and stop.Step forward and stop.You will see that this is your life.If you wait there long enough,his long nose and thick barrel will approach.He will wipe your hand clean with histongue.He will drink long from the bucket ofwaterbeside you, then tickle your facewith the wiry hair of his muzzle, leavingpatches of drool on your shirt,sticky and wet as tears.When you make a sudden movehe will shy sideways, the crest of his manerising He will turn and run, flinginggraveland dirt behind him Don t watch.You will feel nothing but the rumble of earthand the wind of his leaving Tomorrow,the horse will be small on the horizon,the pasture where you sit empty andwide I thank Ann for the review copy and for the great honor of critiquing WHAT FLIES AWAY, published February 13, 2018, and available on Just a little bit about Ann Campanella, formerly a magazine and newspaper editor she lives with her husband, daughter and animals on a small horse farm in Huntersville, North Carolina Ann has received Awards for her poetry, Poet Laureate Award being one of them.This poetry book goes hand and hand with, Motherhood Lost and Found, an award winning memoir that tells about Ann s tribulations during the time when Ann s mother developed Alzheimer s, having multiple miscarriages and the loss of her f Just a little bit about Ann Campanella, formerly a magazine and newspaper editor she lives with her husband, daughter and animals on a small horse farm in Huntersville, North Carolina Ann has received Awards for her poetry, Poet Laureate Award being one of them.This poetry book goes hand and hand with, Motherhood Lost and Found, an award winning memoir that tells about Ann s tribulations during the time when Ann s mother developed Alzheimer s, having multiple miscarriages and the loss of her father.I enjoyed this poetry book that was gifted to me by the Author and it s been a prevledge to read and remind myself of what she had gone through.The poetry book would be a book for women to women, as I feel there are issues that only the female can understand, although the book is not in a rhythmic style, the style Ann has created is unique to herself.I recommend this poetry book to anyone interested in poetry from a women s point of view, likes non rhythmic poetry, likes down to earth poetry and those that have gone through loss and grief Having read Ann s book, MOTHERHOOD LOST AND FOUND, I was pleased to see the release of Ann s poems that lead up to the writing of her memoir Wow I can t write poetry, and I rarely read it, but I am so pleased that I took the time to read this compilation of memories, insights, and milestones found along the Alzheimer s journey I highlighted so many passages that I wanted to revisit time and again Here s just one passage that wafted through my heart The tide keeps rising.Waves churn in mty m Having read Ann s book, MOTHERHOOD LOST AND FOUND, I was pleased to see the release of Ann s poems that lead up to the writing of her memoir Wow I can t write poetry, and I rarely read it, but I am so pleased that I took the time to read this compilation of memories, insights, and milestones found along the Alzheimer s journey I highlighted so many passages that I wanted to revisit time and again Here s just one passage that wafted through my heart The tide keeps rising.Waves churn in mty mother s mind, my father fights to sae his crew,and I stand on the far shore waiting for the next day s news.There is beauty in the words Ann writes, but there is also humor You will be pleased you decided to pick up this collection I sure was