"Horatian in its great good humor and its sympathies, romantic in its love of place, and postmodern in its vision of human value in an indifferent universe, Weather is a masterful debut collection. Dave Lucas recognizes, as few poets do, no matter what their age, that praise and lament are different facets of attachment and that mourning often is the deepest form of celebration."
—Alan Shapiro, author of The Dead Alive and Busy
In this debut collection, Dave Lucas turns and returns to Cleveland, where he was raised. The weather of these poems arises from both the lush light of the natural world and the hard rain of industry. Poem by poem, the book surveys the majesty and ruin of landscape and lakefront, paying tribute to the shifting seasons of a city, of a terrain, and of those who dwell there.
At the Cuyahoga Flats
Here, in the river’s oxbow-bend and silt,
the muddy unmarked grave of Republic Steel.
Here is the elegy to ore and pellet:
inertial loaders, the quiet of the mill.
See how deliberate the passing barge—
as if somewhere hotter furnaces are lit.
Rust in the water and reclining drawbridge:
oxide and spall, the color of ash at sunset.
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