Without the Cliff by Caitlin Coey — A Review

Childhood traumas, reflections, and poetry for a brighter world.

Poetry bridges places where reality and the mind refuse to meet. There is so much power in the space between the words, so much potential in a line left hanging, or a word chosen for the way it implies without meaning what it says.

When I read poetry, I like to give myself time to be immersed in it. I like to sit, alone, and sink down like I used to do in pools during lifeguard training, sinking down to hold my breath and listen to a heartbeat — only, with poetry, the heartbeat is someone else’s; another human being’s heartbeat translated through ink on a page.

All at once and immersive: that is how I normally read chapbooks of poetry.

But, this time, I broke my rule, and I read the first poem as soon as the book arrived: and was captivated for a day by the presence in even those few lines.

Caitlin Coey has crafted a collection of poetry that investigates the heart of childhood trauma, among many other experiences of living. She sifts the complex pains of life, reflects on the many other types of fracture that build a human being. Without the Cliff seeds poignancy into past reflections, but at all times pulses with a sense of presence, a heartbeat of momentum…