SIGN LANGUAGE by Susan Dworski Nusbaum

We often think of sign language as the art of translating words and emotions into physical gestures. Susan Nusbaum’s superb book, Sign Language, translates the gestures and emotions,even the political realities of ordinary life, into lines of poetry. Whether focusing on the reaction of a teenage boy after a devastating housefire, “as he picks through the silent bones of his childhood” or describing the late October silence when “no sparrows spill their chatter within this space,” Nusbaum’s eyes and ears are always open and her pen ready to describe what it is to be human in the world, ready to find the messages beneath the words. In often plainspoken language her consistently eloquent poems are like the pfannkuchen pan she finds after her mother’s death in her poem “Ashes”—something seemingly ordinary that has been “scoured to brilliance.”

–Fred Zirm, author of Cycling at Sunrise, Object Lessons

Sign Language, Susan Nusbaum’s new collection, looks at the ways natural phenomena, chance encounters, found objects, and persistent memories all contain potent signs that can guide us along life’s path. As though examining common salt or blades of grass under a microscope, Nusbaum discovers unexpected beauty in ordinary moments, then shifts to a higher power to gaze into their hearts.

She marvels at an intricate tracery of ice crystals but discovers, “The next morning— no trace/ as if the web had unraveled/ dissolved into the swirl of the universe/ Such radiance, ours/ for an instant.” A teenage boy finds a family heirloom while picking through the remnants of his home after a devastating fire. “Cradling the teacup in his hands/ he offers it to the camera/ blows away a veil of ash.” She views a golden locust tree “gazing, not from a distance/ but centered inside a room of mirrors/ finding your reflection flickering around you/ a thousand oval flames against the blue.” Other poems reflect on passing time, lost friends, and women waiting for their mammograms. The last three poems describe actual, physical signs: an electronic billboard with an enigmatic message, a sign reading “Open Soon” on a tavern that never opens, and a poster reading “Free Hugs” held aloft by villagers offering community and support to voters bereaved by the outcome of the 2024 election.

This is Nusbaum’s fifth collection and the distillation of years spent refining lines and language into small treasures that speak to the mystery at the core of our mundane lives. She teaches us that, although our experiences may be common, even humorous, they’re never trivial.

–Patricia Averbach, author of Dreams of Drowning, Missing Persons