Ted Kooser lives and writes on 62 acres of wooded hills and pasture in rural Nebraska with his wife, Kathleen Rutledge, a retired editor of the Lincoln Journal Star. None of their property is farmed and is instead left to an abundance of wildlife. For many years Kooser worked at a desk in the life insurance business, retired at 60, and for fifteen years taught poetry writing in the graduate program of the University of Nebraska. He is the author of fifteen books of poetry, five volumes of nonfiction, five children's picture books, and seventeen chapbooks and special editions. He served two terms as U.S. Poet Laureate and his 2004 collection of poems, Delights & Shadows, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. Prior to the publication of A Man with a Rake, his most recent collection of poems is Red Stilts, from Copper Canyon Press. More about his life, his work, and his many honors can be found at www.tedkooser.net.

"Kooser has written more perfect poems than any poet of his generation." -Dana Gioia, Can Poetry Matter?

Named U.S. Poet Laureate for 2004-2006, Ted Kooser is one of America's masters of the short metaphorical poem. Dana Gioia has remarked that Kooser has written more perfect poems than any poet of his generation. Long admired and praised by other poets, Kooser is also accesible to the reader not familiar with contemporary poetry.

"America Through Time is an imprint of Fonthill Media LLC"--Verso title page.

WINNER OF THE NOBEL PRIZE IN LITERATURE A dreamlike collection from the Nobel Prize-winning poet A Village Life, Louise Glück's eleventh collection of poems, begins in the topography of a village, a Mediterranean world of no definite moment or place: All the roads in the village unite at the fountain. Avenue of Liberty, Avenue of the Acacia Trees— The fountain rises at the center of the plaza; on sunny days, rainbows in the piss of the cherub. —from "tributaries" Around the fountain are concentric circles of figures, organized by age and in degrees of distance: fields, a river, and, like the fountain's opposite, a mountain. Human time superimposed on geologic time, all taken in at a glance, without any undue sensation of speed. Glück has been known as a lyrical and dramatic poet; since Ararat, she has shaped her austere intensities into book-length sequences. Here, for the first time, she speaks as "the type of describing, supervising intelligence found in novels rather than poetry," as Langdon Hammer has written of her long lines—expansive, fluent, and full—manifesting a calm omniscience. While Glück's manner is novelistic, she focuses not on action but on pauses and intervals, moments of suspension (rather than suspense), in a dreamlike present tense in which poetic speculation and reflection are possible.

All roads led to Provence after Mary Roblee and her French husband, Paul-Marc Henry, found a forsaken ruin on a hilltop near Avignon. In one afternoon they bought all twelve acres, launching into the pitfalls and pleasures of restoring their pile of stones and gnarled landscape into a farmhouse and a vineyard. Five years passed before they drank a goblet of their own wine, their orchards flowered, and their monastic white-walled rooms were filled with Provençal anitques. In discovering the fun and fascination of local customs, cuisine and history, Mary Henry learned, as an American woman, to glean the secret art of cross-cultural living and above all, to cope with the care and feeding of a Frenchman.