Marston Meadows

From the prizewinning poet, a tender, nostalgic and dryly witty collection that celebrates the companionship of marriage, the small joys of growing old, and the ever-illuminating beauty of the English countryside

A walk is like a knot that gets undone,

And yet it keeps us closer.

In Marston Meadows, John Fuller celebrates the rewards of a life lived in rich attentiveness to the world. The book opens with the extraordinary title sequence, a corona of fifteen intertwining sonnets written for the poet’s wife on their diamond wedding anniversary. At once magisterial and delicate, they build into a moving meditation on how our selves are shaped, and deepened, by long companionship, under the growing shadow of mortality.

Taking in a dizzying sweep of human time, Fuller reflects on what keeps us together and what breaks us apart. With spectacular formal dexterity and a tender awe, the poems track the hidden lives of wildflowers, birds, and other emissaries from an increasingly fragile natural world. Lyrical, irreverent, freighted with a lifetime’s understanding, the poems reach out, with the humility of an apprentice, to the precious others who share our path: ‘Can you tell / Me / Something of love?’