Mem­o­ries, images, visions, and more soar in this new col­lec­tion of Lipszye’s poems. Many of the ini­tial vers­es reflect the poet’s con­nec­tion to her reli­gious youth, when the world was like a strand of yeast to become chal­lah, stretched “…to see how wide God’s hon­ey-laced / bless­ings can spread.” Lip­szye catch­es an essence of child­hood that is more than just pleas­ant reflec­tion, instead invok­ing metaphors reveal­ing child­hood nuances of mixed thoughts and feel­ings, such as those in ​“Pre­serv­ing Child­hood,” ​“In min­utes, the school­yard drums a fer­al beat / of rival cliques and rhyming chants, / and neb­u­lous games of hide-and-seek.” Unafraid to face or ignore the harsh real­i­ties in life, the author pens a painful and ques­tion­ing poem in ​“Lega­cy,” in which Yom Kip­pur is par­al­leled with the fear­ful pon­der­ings of preg­nant moth­ers about to give birth on cat­tle car trains head­ing for extinc­tion, or the poignan­cy of a pic­ture in ​“Read­ing a Pho­to­graph (On the Com­ing of the Shoah). In ​“Parch­ment of Peace,” per­haps Israel is tru­ly “…[a] ves­sel for the dis­pos­sessed / to hold in abeyance.” Bounc­ing back and forth from bliss to sor­row, the mood is bro­ken in anoth­er sec­tion where the author rev­els in nature, as in ​“A Boy Dreams of a Fish­ing Rod…” where “…[t]he world around him is mov­ing, wait­ing in a sto­ry cir­cle….” Final­ly, the author demon­strates her eye for obser­va­tion and vivid asso­ci­a­tion in the metaphor­i­cal ​“Break­ing Vows in a Tele­phone Booth,” in which ​“Walk­ing on Bloor Street, / I saw / an icon in white, / an angel on sab­bat­i­cal, / wings trapped / in the strait­jack­et bodice of a red tele­phone booth….” A superb col­lec­tion from a tal­ent­ed poet.