THAT KIND OF SLEEP

National Poetry Series Award–winner Peckham bundles abbreviated memories from her multinational childhood into poems about memory and forgetting, cultures of tradition and individuality, youth and old age: "I blew the candles cold.../ ...saying,/ Have to leave to America now, can't stay to hear you sing/ sad verses... / ...to pull you through// smoke of burning corn." Peckham, too, addresses the difficulty of communicating: "My face/ was full of my tongue, of knowing I chased her/ ...around the roses... / ...my voice twisted to her/ jagged noises." (Sept.)