A blueprint for survival gets it done by thinking deeply about poetry as a container: using structure, cadence, subtext, and Trainor’s startlingly deft skill at implication to deliberately build up an emotional and symbolic language all its own. Silent structural discoveries are everywhere: Wildfire — the more traditional half of the collection — names its nineteen free verse and short prose poems primarily for places: creeks, parks, valleys, silently signaling that this is a map. That foundation becomes crucial as the second sequence, Seeds, kicks off — exploring “forms of resistance, survival, and emergence in the context of climate change and the sixth mass extinction,” each segment centred on a single organism: a lentil, a bee — and the structure explodes.