The Children - Tapa blanda

"Paula Bohince looks back at nature's enduring and defining cycles in her new collection, The Children, finally concluding 'In the end, we were landmark, / compass.'"
--Barbara Hoffert, "Library Journal" Pre-pub Alert

"The plosive thrills and quietly mournful tenor of the finely-wrought poems in Paula Bohince's The Children reward enormously upon first encounter, and only more so upon subsequent reads.... [A] masterful command of syntax and line."
--Virginia Konchan, "The Rumpus"

"This is a poet whose work I want to keep reading."
--Rebecca Morgan Frank, "Memorious"

"Aptly titled, The Children illuminates a kind of contemporary nostalgia, one the pursues an innocence found only in childhood without forsaking the beautiful complexities of aging and the natural evolution of the wildlife around us: "Virus in my heart. Branches / salted with buds, soft- / eyed on a sill."
--Kelly Forsythe, "The Los Angeles Review"

"These verses conjure rural southwest Pennsylvania as an exotic locale, swirled with pussy willow, milkweed, hornet nests of gray papier-mache, velvet-antlered deer, mushrooms like men on horseback, flusters of quail flushed from briar. . . . We are drawn into an interior network that at its best sets off Plath-like, compressed-energy depth charges of imagery."
--Mike Schneider, "Pittsburgh City Paper"

"There's movement in Bohince's -poems, but it's gradual and subtle--an eye passing like Ken Burns' camera over a still image, discovering new details. Even in narrative passages, Bohince lets participles do the work of predicates.... 'The Peacock, ' about a depressed father who seems destined to leave his young family, mixes sentences and fragments to painterly effect."
--"The New York Times"

"Paula Bohince looks back at nature's enduring and defining cycles in her new collection, The Children, finally concluding 'In the end, we were landmark, / compass.'"
--Barbara Hoffert, "Library Journal" Pre-pub Alert

"The plosive thrills and quietly mournful tenor of the finely-wrought poems in Paula Bohince's The Children reward enormously upon first encounter, and only more so upon subsequent reads.... [A] masterful command of syntax and line."
--Virginia Konchan, "The Rumpus"

"This is a poet whose work I want to keep reading."
--Rebecca Morgan Frank, "Memorious"

"Aptly titled, The Children illuminates a kind of contemporary nostalgia, one the pursues an innocence found only in childhood without forsaking the beautiful complexities of aging and the natural evolution of the wildlife around us: "Virus in my heart. Branches / salted with buds, soft- / eyed on a sill."
--Kelly Forsythe, "The Los Angeles Review"

"These verses conjure rural southwest Pennsylvania as an exotic locale, swirled with pussy willow, milkweed, hornet nests of gray papier-mache, velvet-antlered deer, mushrooms like men on horseback, flusters of quail flushed from briar. . . . We are drawn into an interior network that at its best sets off Plath-like, compressed-energy depth charges of imagery."
--Mike Schneider, "Pittsburgh City Paper"