"The beauty of faith isn’t so much about paradise as it is the absence before, the gap we must leap in order to land. In her meditative and profound book slight faith, Risa Denenberg plants her feet before the divide, wrestles with the angels of loss and doubt. ‘There is nothing,’ Denenberg writes, ‘on the other side for certainty to dine on.’ Yet, there is so much in this book that nourishes. ‘These are days of awe,’ she writes and while reading these poems I too am opened up to a sense of fear and wonder. These poems speak to the sacred within and outside of us. There is death and pain but inevitably there is ‘the slipperiness of hope.’ There is an almost reluctant acceptance of pleasure. ‘I’ve grown passably / fond of rain,’ she says and I can’t help but smile as she tries for something ‘more pastoral.’ Despite the scope of Denenberg’s poetry, which spans generations and religions and loves, her talent for restraint offers the subtle power and influence of a musical score. It is a difficult and fine balance to strike. Although she may write from and for the perspective of those who only praise or lament, she recognizes the very different silences that come after. We are given invaluable moments of introspection. Tightly crafted, wise with a quietly passionate heart, slight faith will make a reader leap and marvel." —Michael Schmeltzer, author of Blood Song