Wolf Moon Down

Sally Woolf-Wade, in her newest poetry collection, Wolf Moon Down, gives us memories of travel, far, far away, and ultimate settling at home in coastal Maine.

She has profound appreciation for Maine's natural beauty, its maritime history, and its often enigmatic folks. Woolf-Wade skillfully weaves various poetic

forms -ghazal, sonnet, haiku, villanelle-among free verse poems to enhance their humor or poignancy. The Wolf Moon lights a seductive path, and issues

a bold invitation that readers are privileged to accept.

-Anne Johnson Mullin, author of Surface Tension and Sometimes a Sonnet


Sarah J. Woolf-Wade's Wolf Moon Down poetry collection fulfills the promise of its title. Wolves howling in hunger apply in these poems directly to human

survival as fellow mammals at the mercy of the cycles of the sea, the ravages of time and accident. Woolf-Wade shows in "Slack Water" that our boat balances

on the lip of time. She does not flinch to remind us how these cycles can heal both the tragedies and yearnings of our mortal natures that reveal deceased

loved ones' faces. These poems want us to remember that we are integral and intimate companions in the living on land which we do not own and the sea,

which we share on our planet Earth.

-Dona Luongo Stein, author of Leaving Greece, Alice in Deutshland,


Heavenly Bodies, Children of the Mafiosi, host of The Poetry Show, KRFC The past lives and shimmers on Sally Woolf-Wade's pages, the way heat bends

vision over summer roads. Astute observer, she wanders lovingly among us in mid-coast Maine, catching moments that are our lives. We're all here, held in

her heart's gentle eye, somehow swept, as she says, by the scent of beach roses.

-Martin Steingesser, Past Poet Laureate, Portland, Maine


The poetry of Sally Woolf-Wade pulsates with honesty and alertness. The changeable sea that appears often in her work is an apt metaphor for the poems

as they touch upon tranquility and fervor, beauty and grief, solitude and empathy. She is a poet whose praise of the physical world is, at once, patient and

cat-quick.

-Baron Wormser, Past Poet Laureate, Maine