[Below, Monaghan offers a positive review of Odd Mercy.]

Stern writes with enormous authority and intensity of the lot common to humanity—of aging and death, of the tenderness of love, of family and friendship. With the heartbeat of blank verse thrumming almost inaudibly in the background, Stern extemporizes from the most ordinary experiences—seeing a bluebird, sitting in the park near a baby buggy, hearing of a friend's death—and lets the experience open out, up, beyond. For instance, in the magnificent "Did I Say," the poet excavates an early spring flower from its cloak of snow; snow turns to water and the blossom reveals itself. The poet feels "split in two; I opened / because of the water, because of the seed"; the world is illuminated suddenly by a dandelion sun, and all nature is animated by consciousness and love. In his ability to capture such transformative moments, Stern reminds us of one of poetry's primal purposes.