A mouse is like a heart: it sleeps in winter;
it knows uncertain love ...
None of us knows what to expect out there.
Surely pain is to be a part of it.
The Other Love offers a way of seeing - passing through aging, through loss, while staying open to the beauties and mysteries of the world and the people in it. Henri Cole, one of America's finest poets, balances ecstasy with a constant awareness of devastating violence, whether inside our threshold, or glimpsed from afar. These observant lyrics resist easy answers; they gleam with desire and doubt, bracing for uncertain love, for certain pain, for sudden joy, in our ever-strange bodies.
