title: Weak Devotions: poems
author:  Luke Hankins 
description: "Luke Hankins's poetry shimmers with intellect and craft. However, what is most surprising about it, especially in our time, is that it wrestles with the issues Donne, Herbert, Hopkins, Vassar Miller, and countless others also found worthy of their most impassioned work . . . But one need not be religious to be moved by poetry as finely wrought as is found in his brilliant title poem and elsewhere in this book." <br />-John Wood<br /><br />"There is great compassion in these poems, most especially for the vicissitudes of childhood, when the mystery of life is first unfolding. But Hankins understands that 'there are few words left sufficient to this world' to explain or console or lift up as praise, and that even the loveliest poem may prove a weak devotion. Still, Hankins does not give in to uncertainty or despair. Rather, in masterfully wrought poems, he exhorts us to 'abandon ideas and concepts of beauty' and 'be part of it,' a natural and blessed part of life's great dance. In the beautiful poem 'Wisteria,' the poet convinces us that it is in fact possible to give oneself over to the mysterious 'sweetening sun,' like a vine-wrapped tree that becomes 'what rises through it.' Such brave surrender is, I think, what gives these heartfelt poems their clarity, power, and grace."<br />-Richard Jones
zlib_text: Dedication
  For my son, Luke
  My joy, my heart, my favorite scientist.
  Thank you for your endless smiles, your witty humor, and your infectious
  love of adventure. You teach me every day to see the world in a new way
  and to enjoy every precious moment. I love you.
  
  Contents
  Cover
  Title Page
  Dedication
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  
  Chapter 23
  Chapter 24
  Chapter 25
  Chapter 26
  Chapter 27
  Chapter 28
  Chapter 29
  Chapter 30
  Chapter 31
  Epilogue
  Discussion Questions
  Acknowledgments
  About the Author
  Praise for Abigail Wilson
  Also by Abigail Wilson
  Copyright
  
  Chapter 1
  1815
  Southeastern England
  I blinked a few times and took a deep breath. Apparently I’d survived.
  Shaky, I pressed my hand to the wet gash on my temple as the world
  around me swirled into focus.
  Gunshots. Highwaymen. The carriage crash