The first thing that struck me reading "the true keeps calm biding its story" was the fiercely peaceful aphorism that serves as title for the sequence to come. Each of the thirty- six pages contains three, precisely arranged, three-line stanzas. Each line is broken at the justified right-hand margin with the words "stop," "please," or "advise." This poet puts her trust in the measure of order—order experienced as liberation. That "stop" can be rendered infinitely open is its striking singularity. The contemplative visionary quietism of Rusty Morrison's work recalls the graph paintings of Agnes Martin while remaining absolutely original. Reading meditative and tremulous lines in the manuscript such as:

Nearness is a funnel into which I keep pouring us stop

Each vow of truthfulness is darkly overhung with a rampart of prophesy stop

the visible is overtaking and undertaking me at the same time please

I think of how perfectly they answer to William James' description of our consciousness in the "different pace of its parts. Like a bird's life . . . made of an alternation of flights and perchings."