That is life.
In youth, we demand answers
about its meaning.
In old age, we know
that being alive
means everything

In elementary school, Sydney Eddison wrote poems about the Connecticut countryside where she lived. "After a hiatus of seventy-five years," she writes in the preface to this book, "I returned to poetry." How lucky for us that she did! Infused with the wisdom of nearly nine decades of life, the lovely poems in All the Luck contemplate nature and family, life and death, simple pleasures and profound gratitude… reminding us that simply being is a glorious miracle. (CH)