"In Caroline Goodwin's Trapline, nature's flux and torque are embodied in a language that is taut, luscious, and musical. These are poems of rot and salt, dragonflies and kinked reeds, where the world is always with us - raw and omnipresent, beautiful and terrible. Here poems navigate physical and metaphysical landscapes, embodying experience and a world both awful and awe-full: 'when the mind / has grown plumes delicate / as tubeworms in the driftwood / in the sponge and scarlet / blood star tough as tongues / as the sea whip clicking.' Even when examining minutiae, Goodwin's poems retain the largeness of the world they articulate. And like the world, they both describe and inhabit us. This is wonderful, searing, necessary work; we read it and we pause and we see ourselves differently." -- Donna de la Perrière