From the sanctuary of Pineshadow (both place name and poetic persona), Mark Tate composes moments of tender, meditative attention, reminding us of beauty and intimacy, as well as what is lost to addiction, dementia, death, and delusion in a fractured world bent on following darkness. "How do we lose our way with this much light?" the poet asks. How indeed! Alluding to the Tang poet Hanshan, Tate writes, "I use what remedy/Is at hand to save the world." Tate's depiction of a Zen tea ceremony midway through the collection offers a kind of ars poetica, simultaneously describing the ritual and his verses, "bowing to every honored thing." With empathy and deft lyricism, the poet blesses our times of darkness with light and transforms them into an experience of the sacred.

- Terry Ehret, author of Lost Body and Night Sky Journey

Mark Tate's new volume of poems, Walking Scarecrow, is a microcosm of large-scale wisdom and beauty. Generously including bits of conversation with the ancients - Bashō, Li Po, and others - Tate interweaves deep questions about how to live richly and well with homespun scenes of his simple, rural life. Cold Mountain runs like a gold vein through the quartz of these poems. "Philosopher and Perch" and "Tea" stand out. Replete with the doings of birds and local flora and fauna, Tate's keenly observant eye, philosophical heart, and skillful use of surreal images invite us into the kitchens and backrooms of his world.

- Sandra Anfang, author of Finishing School and Looking Glass Heart

Open the pages of Walking Scarecrow and join Mark Tate, in his poetic nom de plume of Pineshadow, as he walks in the footsteps of his beloved Hanshan in rural Northern California. On these ventures, like a walking scarecrow, Pineshadow leads us by the lakes and under the moon, in the shadow of pine trees and in the company of crows, thousands of miles and centuries away from Hanshan, the ancient Chinese poet also known as Cold Mountain. But the questions are the same: How do we live? How do we love? How do we find shelter?

- Carolyn Miller, author of Route 66 and Its Sorrows