Peter Hague’s “Summer with the Gods” is a compilation of 73 intense poems subdivided into five sections: visitations, rumors, obstacles, encryptions, and reprisals. His poetic imagery and the feelings his writings evoke are both polished and raw. Hague is a masterful writer whose poems are filled with juxtapositions of seeming opposites that unify in a gorgeous whole. I have read many books by the author, and what always strikes me is the intensity of the poet’s language. Hague’s poetic language is always direct and succinct—but there is a hidden juxtaposition of lushness in his poetry that emerges line to line. It’s as if one sees the words in monochrome, but the poem appears with hues and depth from the monochrome words. The rawness of Hague’s poetry is articulate and direct in the poem’s confessional approach. This poet emanates the influences of confessional poets like Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. So, while Hague’s poems are raw and direct, they are blunt and non-intrusive. By “non-intrusive,” I mean the poet creates a framework to see his loss or personal ponderings, but he doesn’t want nor expect the reader to have his experience. He hopes that the reader understands or comes to understand his perspective and experience. The book has themes of renewal, loss, nature, ocean, destruction, rebirth, alienation, and integration. The thread that all the poems weave together is that the poet has faith and resilience that emerges in beautiful poetic lines affirming his choice for renewal.

Peter Hague’s “Summer with the Gods” might best be described as stream-of-conscious prose poetry. The delineation of most poems in this collection is unconfined and does not follow the strict meter of traditional poetry. The rhyme scheme is sincere and almost goes unnoticed due to how naturally it flows. Since the rhyme is never forced, it does not interfere with the poet’s introspections. “I Forgot to Look at the Sky” felt familiar, like a mirror reflecting the oft reluctance of myself and many others to label ourselves as poets. Peter has gathered his thoughts and memories throughout the collection, contemplating and realigning them to fit newly acquired wisdom and experience. He is especially conscious of time and how it possesses him and makes him aware of how fleeting time is, as in “In the Back of My Clock.” Some of his reflections are amusing, such as “Plastic Hen” and “Another Kind of Hat.” Numerous phrases rose from their page and dazzled me: “I went unnoticed into the deadly quiet – the labor of my words spent, yet unread.” “A silent heart will find a way to speak.” “Clouds do not move aside for poetry, they are the scenery of its highest domain –“ “Depression can be a creative force, an inspiration from a darker source.” “And do not concern yourself with a road not taken – your shoes have always known the way.” There is much more to be explored in this phenomenal work. This book should not be put on a shelf but kept handy to read again and again.