Reflecting on the experiences of life and love, Mckee observes youth as a time "controlled by the confusion of genitals" and adulthood as a last chance " to make the most of our madness." His verse walks an emotional tightrope, juxtaposing despair and celebration. The same poet who drowns in a room filled with silence "thick as water" rejoices in "a red morning / sun trying to stand up / on the slippery ice."

A poet who knows "the language of trees" and understands "the silence of stones," Mckee is willing to "face the cold darkness" of human existence. With Mckee, "every line is a direction" and "words are answers" in the process of seeing life as "waiting for someone to come, for some one to save," even though salvation, as this poet contends, is both individual and self wrought.

Mckee's poems meander through the emotional landscape of the heart the way that the Delaware wanders through the physical terrain of Pennsylvania, cutting and cleansing as they move. Like the hungry birds he describes, Mckee's words are "thankful but offer no thanks." They are a testament to this author's belief that when pain "hurts most," a poet will "sing the best." River Architecture offers "soft words, wet eyes, and trembling hands" that will leave the reader, long after the volume has been closed, with "a salty stain in the heart."

- Peter Scheponik