I love her opening poem titled “I Was Minor” and I thought I was in for a treat. Unfortunately, I didn’t get many of her poems from this collection. It’s my own fault—not the author. I am still learning to read poetry.

Leave your phone and your digital devices inside. Pick up John Freeman’s Wind, Tree and head outside. Through the force and beauty of nature, Freeman writes about life, loss, and love through narrative lyric and meditative pulse. My favorite pieces include “Nothing to Declare,” “Windward,” “Icicle,” and “Still.”

In the first part of The Writing of an Hour, Coultas shares her writing process, which is fascinating. I didn’t catch everything in the remaining parts of the collection; therefore, I can’t honestly say much about her work other than I had read through it.

Last year, when Ms. Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai announced her forthcoming novel, Dust Child, I immediately pre-ordered it. Having read and loved her debut novel, The Mountains Sing, I expected her new book, in which she spent seven years writing, to be excellent.

Dust Child arrived in my mailbox last Tuesday and I read it every chance I had. The book lived up to my expectations. Ms. Nguyễn is a gifted writer with an ear for language and a heart for humanity. In her stories, she puts the suffering of her characters over the conflicts from all sides. She sheds light on the dust of lives of Amerasians, dark-skinned children in particular, who had to face hatred and discrimination. Although her characters are fictional, I heard similar heartbreaking stories growing up in Việt Nam.

In addition to the devastating consequences, Ms. Nguyễn weaves together the sweet, erotic romance and the cultural references. As what she had done in The Mountains Sings, Ms. Nguyễn incorporated Vietnamese proverbs with her excellent translations in Dust Child. I appreciate both her clear writing style as well as her level-headed approach to the war—all sides are responsible for the human loss and suffering. It’s an engaging, eye-opening, heart-rending read.

Richard Blanco’s How to Love a Country is poetic, poignant, and patriotic. Whether writing about his own history as an immigrant, his own gender identity as gay, his own grief on gun violence, Blanco’s poems are all about America as a work in progress. After reading this collection, I could see why Obama selected Blanco as the fifth Presidential Inaugural Poet.

Rae Armantrout is a master of minimalist. Her poems are concise and economical. She wastes no word and she leaves plenty of whitespace on the page. I read the Finalist collection twice and enjoyed the pieces each time. My personal favorites are “The Test” and “Late Remark.”

Tarriona “Tank” Ball is indeed Vulnerable AF. In this collection, she reflects on her past relationships and her realness came through on the page. You can feel her heartbreaks, emotions, and infatuations. “Expectations,” “Sudden Truth,” and of course “The Ass” are some of my favorites.

Simone White’s ex-husband called her an “ignorant fucker” because she “will not support any white people with [her] work.” Her poems explores critical theory, motherhood, trap music, and sexual freedom. The collection is a captivating read.

Medlin’s 808 & Otherworlds is a vibrant, pulsating, stunning collection on hip-hop, racism, and Blackness. Their response to Kanye West’s “400 years of slavery sounds like a choice,” is candid and critical. If you love hip-hop, you will enjoy Medlin’s lyrical poetry.

Bates’s thrilling debut collection begins with “The Dog.” An image of a dog stuck on a lease outside of the door as the train pulls away can’t escape my mind. Bates’s writing is dark and intimate. “Conversation with Mary” is one of my personal favorites. Quite a read.