Fog and smoke

The irregularity of climate is entangled with the precariousness of nature in Peterson's fifth collection. Each agile poem eases the reader into a conversation measured by abrupt imagery and playful turns. The three untitled sections progress from the outside to family to the human need for safe spaces. The multipage opening poem, "Fog," is at once an ode and a warning, with compact stanzas that sit formidably in the middle of the page only to be jostled on the next by a flood of lines. "Supermoon" captures a familial scene that considers cultural contrasts with lines like, "There's no place for chopsticks / in an American drawer, my husband said. / I said, just try me. Just watch me try. / I'm American, I can put things anywhere." The surprising "The Web" is a rich seasonal journey in which the speaker carefully observes, in a high-traffic area, a beautiful lattice erected by a spider that is "splendid / as a ceramic intended to be beautiful for daily use." Each line shines in the sun like stained glass. Fog and Smoke is a triumph of observation and intimacy that invigorates the reader to act for the natural world.