Before I commence lauding Ted Kooser’s collection of poetry, Valentines, out this month from UNP, let me begin by confessing that my credentials for reviewing poetry are suspect. My education in poetry is as haphazard as the patchwork anthology I have on my bookshelf—a few full collections here and there, plus a notebook of Xeroxed and hand-copied poems given to me from friends of their favorite selections from Lisel Mueller or Vladimir Mayakovsky, James Wright or Billy Collins. It’s a big mixed-tape kind of compilation that I can pull out whenever I’m in need of some poetic therapy. Here’s what I do know: when you need a dash of hope, Mary Oliver is the ticket. Angry and jilted? Mary Kerr has been there. Don’t know whether to cry or throw yourself out a window? Laugh at your desperation with John Engman.

So of course I love Ted Kooser’s “American Life in Poetry” column, where he shares one poem a week by a different writer, along with the briefest of introductions for those of us who might need a nudge toward better understanding. Ted is such a friend to those whose quest for poetry, like mine, is both random and timid, and several of his selections have ended up in the notebook on my bookshelf. And of course I love Ted’s own poetry because naturally it is just as careful and just as giving.

Ted’s new book, Valentines is even more generous, since it is a collection of poems that were originally written as gifts. For the past twenty years, every February, Ted would write a Valentine poem and have it printed up on postcards. Then he’d affix a tiny red heart sticker and hand them out or send them to his women friends all over the country (and the introduction to the collection does include a word of thanks to his wife for tolerating the fact that he’s a harmless flirt).

Ted’s Valentine poems are both endearing and eclectic, with poems on everything from celery hearts to hog-nosed snakes. What I love best about the poems is their wistfulness and hint of melancholy, even when Ted is plying his metaphor for humor, like in “The Celery Heart” or “Barn Owl.” While some of the poems are on romantic love or unrequited love, others look at platonic love or just the theory of love itself, masked in the metaphors that Ted is such a master at creating.

The book itself is lovely too, with a simple cover that is reflective of what the original Valentines Ted handed out actually looked like, shiny little red sticker and all. The book’s spare illustrations throughout are by Robert Hanna, who explains that they’re of Ted’s workspace and local landscape (and I suppose that must be Ted’s Collie dog too!), and they complement the poems perfectly and make Valentines a charming and original purchase, whether you’re looking for a Valentine’s gift, or just an addition for your own haphazard bookshelf.

I’ll end this review with a little Valentine to you, gentle blog reader, of my favorite poem from Ted’s wonderful new book. Enjoy.

“Tracks”

Using a cobbler’s shoe last
I found one summer at a yard sale,
and the heavy leather uppers
from cast-off boots, a jigsaw,
some wood, an awl and thread,
and a few evenings sitting alone
thinking of you, I have fashioned
a pair of red valentine shoes
with heart-shaped wooden heels.
Look for my tracks on your doorstep
where I stood with sore feet
through the evening, too timid to knock.

Kate Flaherty is a fiction writer and essayist.