We got to chat with Liane St. Laurent about her book un/winter, published with Bee Monk Press.You can listen to the conversation, and some of the poems from the book, here:

Liane St. Laurent is an old dog learning new tricks. She has washed dishes, driven horse-drawn carriages, picked apples, taught English and is now a retired IT professional. Her work appears online and in print in The Banyan Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Roi Fainéant Press, Yellow Arrow Journal and Touchstone, among others. Liane lives in New Hampshire with her husband, two dogs, and an array of woodland creatures.

You can find her book at: https://www.lianestlaurent.com/chapbook

Praise for un/winter:

The poems in Liane St. Laurent’s un/winter find strength and resilience in the natural world, the fabric of our relations, and the “inventory of things un-remembered.” It’s not the name of things, but how they impress upon us that matters: the “wing flit and tail flash” of the junco, the way in early winter “swamp milkweed surrenders silken threads,” the bright “tick-tick of sleet on rhododendron leaves.” There’s a playful attentiveness here. But at the heart of this impressive debut is the urgent question of how to live fully in complex times rife with both joy and sorrow. “Stay with me,” she writes, “together we’ll wait for a different sky.” — Michael Brosnan, author of Emu Blis, Bums Lie, Blue-ism

There is tenderness and magic in Liane St. Laurent’s poems. There are moons, crickets, and singing feet. Her poems sense “the untold secrets of birds.” I am a fan. — Ewa Chrusciel, author of Yours, Purple Gallinule