I never understand the entirety of a McGuckian poem, but there are parts of each one that attract me so intensely that I know there is a beauty I must explore. Her words and images pull me in and I am swimming in the blues of her imagination.

I hold onto fragments of her poems. I hold onto images such as the blue liquid shining in her eyes, or the blue essence seeping out from behind the Vermeer painting, and I wrestle with these images over time. McGuckian keeps me thinking. Her words and her rhythm encourage me to probe my thoughts/emotions when I experience "blue" myself.