Gorgeous and lyrical, the poems in Oliver's new collection will please her fans and perhaps win new ones. No one writes about nature better than Mary Oliver. ( )

A clearly written, unpretentious book of poems each one of which is based on a deep, intelligent response to the natural world. Fine and appealing lyric poetry. Nothing to shake the earth or keep you awake nights. Legions of us love Mary Oliver's poems--this is a clear demonstration of why this continues to be so. ( )

"Evidence" is a delightful book of poems that often gives one pause to reflect on what we have to gain by being still and observing the natural world, and what we have lost by not doing so. The poems offer evidence that nature gives us little remembrances of purpose and redemption, while not necessarily being redemptive itself--it just is, and is worthy to behold.

My favorite poem in the book is The Trees, which juxtaposes our "invention and advancement" with the holy work of trees in their seasonal ways. The last two lines have become a mantra as I travel among the juniper, pine, and manzanita of my own surroundings.

In her poem Prince Buzzard, I find a companion to Robinson Jeffers' poem Vulture (which also compares the bird's wings to sails). In Jeffers' poem he imagines the awe of "life after death" as carrion content in the bird's stomach, while Oliver nods to the "dark" and necessary work of such carrion feeders. Her poem "Li Po and the Moon" also seems to be a companion poem to Ezra Pound's Epitaph for Li Po. But, I thought Oliver's poem tried too hard to make her point about desperation, which fell flat after her account of Po's "drinking and dreaming and singing" rather than Pound's account of Po's attempt to "embrace a moon."

There are a lot of trees and birds in this book, a fact that made me chuckle when I reached the poem There Are a Lot of Mockingbirds in This Book. Indeed there are ( as well as swans, sparrows, buzzards), but none of them gratuitous.

The book's title poem ends with the prophetic proclamation that "The house of money is falling! The weeds are rising!" The readers who will enjoy this book are those who can rejoice in that proclamation and are willing to seriously listen to the river and hold the pine cone rather than commodify them.

The poet writes nature and nature writes the poet, and the reader is edified by this symbiotic relationship. This is a book best kept off the bookshelf, and in the back yard instead, or wherever else the evidence is to be found. ( )

Mary Oliver's poems are profound and insightful. They exhibit exquisite attention to detail, sincerity, and an insight into the connections between inner meaning-making and the realities of the outer world. Oliver's opening poem, "Yellow," is wonderful, mysterious and striking like the best of her short poems ("Snowy Egret" is another standout). Though the title Evidence resonates with Oliver's consistent method of searching nature for hidden truths, the title poem is a bit self-righteous in the way it addresses the reader: "I ask you again: if you have not been enchanted by/ this adventure--your life--what would do for/you? ... Let me put it this way--if you disdain the/ cobbler may I assume you walk barefoot?" I find Oliver more powerful when she is less sure of herself, as in "At the River Clarion" ("If God exists he isn't just butter and good luck."). Evidence is full of beautiful, resonant poems, poems like "Swans" and "Empty Branch in the Orchard" that celebrate the lovely and fleeting, and poems like "At the Pond" and "Swirler" that investigate the mysteries of sorrow and loss. Poetry lovers and anyone who is on his or her own spiritual journey will find something to embrace in Evidence.

I have loved Mary Oliver's work for some time now, this volume is no exception. She strings together words like pearls, shining in their simple clarity. Never heavy-handed or obscure, the poems read like letters from a friend, observing the world around her.

I love the quiet merriment in her verse, I hope you do, too. ( )