Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
Caught in the Light is an arresting and eloquent poetry collection that evokes the poet’s experience during and after her father’s dying and death. At the same time, it pays homage to the land she inhabits with the rest of us, 'a place where dark means dark,' where, after her father’s death, eagles still 'wheel across flat gray sky, as if nothing/had ever changed.' What she reveres-people she loves, land that is continually altered by humans-is also what she cannot hold onto, except in such poems as these. Walker is aperceptive and articulate observer, and this is an exceptional first book.-Andrea Hollander, author of Blue Mistaken for Sky Erika Walker’s Caught in the Light confronts a 'fractured map I could not read.' The chronicle of her father’s decline, Walker’s poems issue from this rupture with scrupulous care and tenderness, measuring death against life with honesty and lyrical acuity. Yes, the world of father and daughter reverberates with loss; it is also replete with wonder, affection, and the small miracles of memory. Walker’s exquisite attention conjures a ghost: 'the slow wander/of his hands as they tunneled down the sleeves' and 'yellow leather driving gloves/curled in the shape of his hands.' These poems offer reassurance that what is most precious cannot be destroyed and will never really be lost to us.-Elizabeth Robinson, author of On Ghosts To be caught in the light of Erika Walker’s chapbook is to feel the simultaneous beauty and terror of life. The wounds of loss splinter the soul, and light becomes both the puncture and our balm. Here we move through the relational landscapes of self, place, and family, delving deep into singular images that root in contemplation and stillness. She shows us how to remain grounded in times of turmoil. 'Here is a place where aspen trace deep water/and the scree scree of the hawk stops your blood.'-Andrea Rexilius, author of Sister Urn
