#Review: Still Wild- Poems from Bear Shack by Suzanne Sunshower

What does it mean to begin again, confront loss, and find belonging in an unfamiliar landscape? Suzanne Sunshower’s Still Wild: Poems from Bear Shack explores these questions through an intimate account of life in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Blending wilderness experiences with reflections on ageing, grief, friendship, and environmental change, the collection offers a compelling portrait of personal transformation, though its strengths occasionally come with certain limitations.

Organised into three sections: Into the Woods, Loosening Up, and Climbing Out, the book traces the poet’s gradual adjustment to life in a rustic cabin. Sunshower’s greatest achievement is her ability to find meaning in ordinary encounters. In Putting the UP in North, she describes her mind as “an overstuffed appetizer,” humorously capturing anxiety before reminding herself to appreciate the stars. Such moments establish her conversational voice, which combines self-deprecation, directness, and an engaging informality. Free verse, enjambment, short lines, and shifting rhythms allow observations to unfold naturally, while vivid descriptions animate the changing landscape.

The emotional centre of the collection, however, lies in its treatment of bereavement. My Heart / This Wooden Thing asks the haunting question, “Did you feel it?” The simplicity of this line conveys the uncertainty that often survives loss. Similarly, Zooming Out of the Woods transforms a farewell to a dying friend into a moving encounter between memory and nature. The collection’s environmental concerns are equally significant: White Trash exposes irresponsible littering, while Cold Enough? draws attention to changing winters. In an increasingly disconnected world, these poems encourage ecological awareness and a renewed attentiveness to our surroundings.

Yet the collection is not without weaknesses. Its autobiographical immediacy sometimes becomes insularity: references to local places, personal relationships, and recurring woodland characters may feel opaque to readers unfamiliar with the poet’s world. Several poems also rely on explicit explanations or concluding moral observations, occasionally weakening the suggestiveness of their imagery. The conversational tone, while inviting, can become prosaic, and some poems resemble journal entries more than fully developed poetic compositions. Furthermore, the recurring association between nature and personal healing sometimes risks making the wilderness primarily a mirror of the self, rather than allowing its independent complexity to emerge.

Despite these reservations, Still Wild remains a sincere and engaging collection. Its unevenness is part of its intimate, exploratory character, and its strongest poems demonstrate how close observation can illuminate grief, resilience, and belonging. Ultimately, Sunshower reminds us that finding a home is not simply about changing our surroundings; it is about changing how we inhabit the world.

Find the book here.