Tony Kendrew was briefly part of a poetry critique group I'm in, and I'm so glad I was able to meet him and spend some time with him and his work. (I also hope he returns some day, schedule permitting.)
Today I read his new book, Turning, via Amazon's online kindle reader. The collection is a thoughtful exploration in which Kendrew connects with, and reimagines, his Welsh ancestry. The great Menna Elfyn praised it, and rightly so.
Tony generously gave me a CD that contained him reading many of these poems. He's a fantastic reader (with a beautiful accent), and I could hear his voice as I read the book.
I especially appreciate his expression of hiraeth, a Welsh word that is difficult to translate, but suggests a sweet heart-sick, homesick longing for a place. Ah, hiraeth! I know it well.
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