By morning you uncurl — lean in and pull back on a fulcrum of ego the way a steel-toed boot supports a shovel. When I emerge from behind our flap of vinyl, who comes out might be any collection of us here, hail, sunshine or rain. —Excerpt from “Day 6” In tree-planting lingo, a “lowballer” is the least respected person on any crew, one who plants slowly, earning little money. This narrative poem sequence contrasts lyric love and nature poems with found poems from advertising and planting logs. Spanning the period of one potent season, Goodliffe’s narrator tells a spellbinding story about disillusionment in the clear-cut.