Watercolors in the Desk Drawer

<p class=ql-align-justify>In Georgette Unis' <em>Watercolors in a Desk Drawer</em> the world is rendered in intricate detail lush as the pigments on an artist's palette. Family nature politics and art circumscribe the arc of a life where time bends / the chronometer and leaves do not grow / in the winter soil of philosophies / but rather along the arteries / of unfortunates. Whether tracking an ancestral immigrant childhood or the results of the most recent election Unis is attuned to the shifting world where memories pulled from the desk drawer of recollection reinvent and reinvigorate the landscape.</p><p class=ql-align-justify><strong>-Cati Porter</strong> <em>The Body at a Loss</em> poet editor and director of Inlandia Institute</p><p class=ql-align-justify><br></p><p class=ql-align-justify>Georgette Unis paints her poems on a canvas of family using a palette of heritage grief and love. <em>Absorb the grit of your ancestors from patterns on your plate</em>. Her poems lead us through a <em>choreography of storms and drought</em> take delight in quiet moments but are still <em>impatient for rain</em>. They ask <em>How else are we to manage this desert...?</em> and offer an uneasy solace <em>You are water. I drink quickly</em>. Unis guides us to spaces made tender by pain and devotion presented carefully <em>with layers of tissue in between.</em></p><p class=ql-align-justify><strong>-Cindy Bousquet Harris</strong> poet editor of <em>Spirit Fire Review</em></p><p><br></p>