Poetry. 'An artist worthy of her art would find a way / to capture this absence.' Thus, Marjorie Stelmach chides herself for failing to quite discover a language equal to the deepest mysteries, death and loss. This piercing collection of poems, this anatomy of grief, plays out on the desolate shores of Ireland, a care center for the elderly, and in the poet's memory and imagination. It is the simplest and oldest of stories: a daughter mourns her mother's death. But in facing her anguish so directly, in struggling so courageously to give words and meaning to the unknowable, Stelmach has forged a terrible beauty. I can hardly imagine an artist worthier of her art.--George Bilgere