I was saddened by John Latta’s report of the death of E. G. Burrows, whose poems have been quiet but articulate companions for many years now. Our paths crossed (via mail, not in person) back when the small press my friend Gary Schroeder and I operated (Wayland Press) was running an annual chapbook contest. Burrows entered the contest and won in 1989, his manuscript having been chosen by that year’s judge, Ted Kooser. We brought out Handsigns for Rain in short order, and it was frankly among the best works we ever saw into print.Read More