Last week I stopped at the campus bookstore in search of a gift. As a former bookseller, I’ve loathed the not-so-gradual encroachment of “spirit wear” on shelf space. At this point, the “bookstore” is upstairs and more than half of the space is taken up with textbooks and gift items. I couldn’t find the poetry section at all.Then I found the bargain table . . . and the few remaining poetry books they had in stock. I bought Mary Oliver’s book White Pine (1994). I’ve been doling it out in small portions in order to savor it, so I’m …

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