The poems in Carol Moog's latest collection, She Sat But Not Still, pulse with ferocious vulnerability, emerging unbidden with an intense desire for connection. Moog takes readers on a visceral, violent, and frequently feral wander through the wilds and sadness of isolation while carving the footpath to intimacy. Her poetry lays bare both tenacious self-reflection and willingness to be transformed through the fire of her own pen. She Sat But Not Still is an animalistic transformation, clawing from mire to meadow, "out of swirling blackness / into sunshine."
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