In Madness, Rack, and Honey, Mary Ruefle writes, "For me, the moon has always been the very embodiment of lyric poetry." I see that lunar lyricism reflected by this poet. The language is mystical, mythic, sublime, and romantic. The haunting imagery is fresh and allows for strangeness, devastation, and delight in a way that captures me as a reader. There's a cohesive arc in her poems, a notion that these pieces are in concert to one another...
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Poetry