Sally M. Gall
Did you ever imagine, as a child,
these silences falling away
from where death watched us for a moment
and then the mockingbird's manic medley
wild with the morning, wild for heaven to notice.
So ends the epilogue to M. L. Rosenthal's masterly new sequence, She, his finest achievement and in my estimation a leading candidate for the best love poem in English since William Carlos Williams' "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower." These closing lines, with their imagery of ardent song flung forth on the brink of the abyss, are suggestive of Rosenthal's practice as a whole: this situation is a recurring...
(The entire section is 2107 words.)