What best characterizes a poet, every poet, is perhaps the extreme and singular intimacy that is created between the outside world and an inner world. This intimacy is the place of her poetry. Borrowing her title from Lorine Niedecker, Julia Pello has entrusted cinema with the task of finding this place, of giving it a sensitive form to share the work and life of the American poet. Lorine Niedecker (1903-1970) spent most of her life in a cabin on Black Hawk Island, near Fort Atkinson, a small town on the humid plains of Wisconsin. Her poetry was born from this withdrawal: discretion, sobriety, attention to those close to her, listening in silence. Julia Pello brings these qualities from the page to the screen by inviting the choreographer and performer Elise Cowin to invent gestures and movements to bring back Niedecker's presence and attention to these places. Hand gestures running through the collections of poems kept in the library and the museum. Slow-motion arabesques of the body in the space of the cabin. Words, fragments of poems are read, taken from the pages. But the outside world, at Fort Atkinson, is also the traces left in the earth more than a thousand years ago by an indigenous civilization. Traces also of the Indian wars, of a Native American History to which Julia Pello devotes the majority of her work as an artist ( Arrow , FID 2019). This History is frozen in a dead time, like the stuffed animals in the Fort Atkinson museum. The poetic time that opens up here between Niedecker's few words, between the images and sounds sparingly edited by Julia Pello, is the exact opposite of museum time: it makes room for the living and the dead, the living and the non-living.