In How the Garden Looks from Here, Lisa Zimmerman's poems resonate, often like Van Gogh paintings. They open for the presence of magpies in a cornfield, for the son who is "not afraid when he wakes," for the hour filled "with wet boots and socks and black paws." They tap into archetypal sense, and their powered imagery expresses primal synergy with irreplaceable constituents of the natural world. Sometimes her poems listen to the "living invisible world / below the boat," sometimes they witness the uniqueness of daily events, and always they are grounded in reverence. They grieve for what we have done to the planet, for what is passing away from our lives, as simultaneously they take heart in the "breathing hour," where "all things thrive."