In My Inner Eye, Michael Lepore shares tender poems of loss and renewal, memory and hope. He takes us to visit with his Italian relatives: a grandfather sitting outside on a kitchen chair, bestowing a silver dollar to lucky grandkids, an aunt cooking up fried dough or her special tomato sauce, and more. We learn about his early struggles and enduring love. The chaotic sixties come to life once again. A compassionate look at the aging-whether it is a neglected barn or a lonely widow is part of this collection, and in these poems nature, too, offers its solaces, as in "Spring's Fancy," where "seeds, like innocent hearts, sleep beneath their winter blanket."
