ôSlide under the scars where meteors dug their graves in us a millennia ago,ö it advises. And then we do. As we read, we discard the accoutrements that we no longer need, and breathe life. I suspect that this will be so even for those who do not know yoga for the images are accessible, beautiful and touching.

Although I know yoga, I do not think that one must know it to imbibe. Poetry is meant to reach out. This poetry may convert some to drinking of yogaÆs serenity; others may be touched only in the moment. That is, after all, what poetry and yoga are aboutùthe moment.

TownleyÆs images are simple, beautiful and understandable. ôHere, inside the chest,ö she says, ôa tiny fear is folded neatly like a sweater.ö IÆve always ascribed to the theory that poetry should be close kin to our every day speech. It seems Townley might feel the same way.

Unfortunately, I can hardly impart a sense of the images by Eric Dinyer. They are exquisite. They feel like painted photographs, remind me of those patterns one sees behind oneÆs eyelids, deep within the realm of ourselves where reality and soul reside.