Loneliness is the easiest part about life,
a garden I can scrutinize
Natalie Eilbert is a poet I unapologetically admire, not just for her presence and transparency, but for her command of language, the white space, and word. I mean, look at this line and tell me it doesn’t capture the feeling of being a poet in this wide and painful world: “[i]t rains all the time and I never write about the rain.” A poem with a title like ‘Aubade’ conjures up associations of romantic togetherness, parting, that momentum of leaving. And yes, Eilbert describes the leaving when the speaker “push[es] a button and [her] car comes to life”. Here, whatever relationship exists is in the background of the poem—rather, we’re absorbed in the scenery of “dehydrated ladybugs” and the thrice-appearing possum. I find myself re-reading the last stanza over and over for that rain line, and for the possum. What a poem. I hope I can write poems the way Natalie Eilbert writes poems one day.