“The poems in Bud Hirsch's Taking Stock take stock not just of his world but the world, our world. With the patience of an accountant and the eye of a photo-journalist, Hirsch shows himself to be a casual (jeans and riding boots) observer. His poems zoom in on the small but resonant things of this world, savoring their ambivalence: the Bush Hog tracks disappearing into pastures; a fake grass mat at a funeral; a wisp of wood-fire smoke with a hint of skunk; sour cherries, dark red juices bubbling, errant pits rising to the surface; a felled tree and morning sun where there used to be shade; and the stench of four smokers in a small room, barely wiping out the odor of dying. Hirsch invites us to take stock of these evocative images and suggests we take stock of those small things that make up our own lives.”
