Window Ledge is a raw, unadorned testament to what has been done and is being done human to human, and human to animal, plant, fowl and fish, feeling its way through life on feet, on paws, on wings and with fins. The poems carve deep into what we crave, what we cannot escape, and inevitably what we must make peace with. Throughout, the poems express a kind of fatality and awe at the mysterious power of compassion that transcends everything. These are not the poems of a young woman. Instead, they were written as the poet found shimmering, unexpected joy in the midst of indescribable pain. The result is a daring collection that challenges readers to find their way to the essence of everything.
“The poems in this daring collection are drawn from a lifetime of experience. Unapologetically forthright and sensual, they detail the thread of grief that’s stitched into life, and all that “cannot be undone”: abuse, a marriage ended, dark childhood memories. But more than that the poems leap like iridescent fish towards some kind of redemption. “I just want to get close to something shimmering”, Strutt tells the reader. And indeed the poems shine with truth and hard-won wisdom. A collection not to be missed.”
—Rosemary Griebel, author of Yes.
“In Window Ledge, we follow Lesley to witness tides of nature and life incidents, from tiny pebbles, paddling ducks, to Champlain’s statue and the Map of the World, from visible footprints to swift mysterious experiences that transcend her journey. This is a powerful and profound book beautifully rendering hunger, wonders and waves from nature and life that touch me deeply; I urge people to open the book to ‘feel them weight of gold’.”
—Anna Yin, Mirrors and Windows, Inaugural Poet Laureate of Mississauga (2015–2017)
“Lesley Strutt’s poignant, powerful lyrics present a compassionate, intensive map of her world, where there’s always ‘room for miracles’. Window Ledge opens out to a portrait of her landscape, inner and outer, on the edge of possibility. Read her poetry and weep for the poems that she might have written; rejoice in those we have to hand.”
—Penn Kemp, author of A Near Memoir