Wild and deep as the forests they explore, Sean Hewitt's poems go to the woods to understand, to follow the searching root of snowberry, hazels, thistles, bracken to the source. The trees hum with information, with messages and myths to be read and understood: the willow with its head laid down /on the water is whispering something and a poet can stand in the winter woods and ask to know What is the sound of winter . . . and where does it go?