Ann Iverson •
Come Now to the Window

Come Now to the Window, by Ann Iverson, was one of the first single-author books published by the Laurel Collective. These poems, which span an eight-year period, invite the reader to join Iverson as she looks through the windows of aging and loss, to the world beyond.

Praise for Come Now to the Window

“Ann Iverson understands the poetic line. In Come Now to the Window, Iverson’s edgy, occasionally broken syntax is balanced with other lines spare and elegant. Her wisdom about her own poetics is matched by her abiding faith in her subjects — beloved, flawed family; animals wild and domestic; landscapes; the revelations found inside of changing seasons, dreams, and solitude. Ann Iverson’s first collection haunts with its beauty, sorrow, and humanity.”

— Deborah Keenan, author of Willow Room,
Green Door: New and Selected Poems (Milkweed Editions, 2007)

About Ann

Ann Iverson is a visual artist and poet and has worked in education for years. She holds Masters degrees in both fine arts and liberal studies from Hamline University in St. Paul, MN. Her work has appeared in several literary magazines. Ann’s second poetry collection, “Definite Space,” was published by Holy Cow! Press. A few of her poems have been featured on Garrison Keillor’s public radio segment, ‘Writer's Almanac.’

The Cats

To find such glory in a dehydrated pea

on the tile between the stove and fridge.

To toss the needs of others aside

when you simply aren't in the mood for affection.

To find yourselves so irresistible.

And always in a small spot of sun,

you sprawl and spread out the pleasure of yourselves

never fretting, never wanting to go back

to erase your few decisions.

To find yourself so remarkable

all the day long.

From Come Now to the Window, by Ann Inverson

Ann on Writing Poetry

I read poems because I cannot stop myself. I write poems because if I stopped myself, I would not be myself. It is all a matter of self, who and what you were appointed to do. Tampering with this ordained arrangement is dangerous. Long ago, I made a bargain with the words of my life: if I made them poems, they promised me meaning.

From The Double Meaning of Yield: Laurel Poets on Writing Poetry