From the publisher: "A powerful collection of poems that look at parenthood, solitude, love, and memory. Pulling objects from everyday life—a hallway mirror, a rock found in her son's pocket, a field of goldenrods at the side of the road—she reveals the magic of the present moment. Only Maggie Smith could turn an autocorrect mistake into a line of poetry, musing that her phone 'doesn’t observe / the high holidays, autocorrecting / shana tova to shaman tobacco, / Rosh Hashanah to rose has hands.'"

In this brand-new, beautifully written memoir, poet Maggie Smith reflects on her work and parenthood and especially on the end of her marriage, which she reveals was never the same after her 2016 poem Good Bones became a viral sensation. Her short vignettes are reminiscent of diary entries, as she explores not only what happened but how it felt to experience, whether she's writing of discovering her then-husband's affair, leaning on her parents for support, or learning her poem is going to be featured on Madam Secretary. I found this book to be incredibly sad, and was grateful for the gentle note of optimism she ended on.