Craig Arnold never meant for this to be his last book of poems. He meant to keep creating these beautiful worlds, to explore the world with the beautiful joy that infuses this book. When he set off to study volcanoes for his next book, he didn't know that he wouldn't make it back.
The poetry world and the world as a whole have suffered a great loss, as have Arnold's loved ones, who seem to be many.
Made Flesh will linger as an excellent book of poems, a collection of stillnesses that come from a deep love of the world and all the people and stories in it. It stands on its own merits and will hopefully live on for the timeless resonance of Arnold's work. But it is, for now, impossible to read Made Flesh without remembering that Arnold is no longer among us.
I wish the best for his spirit and all the family he left behind, whether connected by blood or not.