"To use words from Doorway, one of the most enigmatic of Ruthig's poems, her subjects frequently involve the "were" inside the "are, or the thin/now of between". Her architectural training and practice may coincide with the clarity, concision and visual richness of her poems, but the poems are also invested with metaphysical and emotional ambiguities. She has a baroque sense of fluidity, transience and riddling premonition. She is fascinated by the askew, the slant, the unknown country which is a continuously receding destination. Ruthig's is a poetry of very high ability and intelligence."
— Peter Sanger, author of Aiken Drum and poetry editor of The Antigonish Review

"Ingrid Ruthig's poems make possible, as the American poet James Dickey would have it, "the deepest kind of personal possession of the world." On offer are long views, in which "not glancing behind us... We just go on," as well as intimate observations of ordinary life; noting that skin is an organ that "shifts across sleep's dunes," or that a childhood caper with siblings is forever bound to "shared corners of sight." Accomplished in both energetic and elegiac tonalities, Ruthig's melodious lines and enjambments offer visually-rich detail and faith in living, despite the "headstrong, outbound current." While they recuperate and celebrate nature and attachments, these poems manage a philosophical eye that is a rare delight in a début collection."
— Nyla Matuk, author of Sumptuary Laws