The astonishingly high level of performance throughout this collection of poems would take almost any reader by surprise. Yet scattered among them are individual poems of such perfected skill (I’ve found a generous baker’s dozen at least) such vivacity, wit and intelligence -- exhibiting Dickinson’s cunning, Bishop’s carefulness -- that a reader is filled brim-full of gratitude. When Ms. Monsour describes night as awaiting “opulently eyed,” or an insect whose “strutting legs complexly climb the screen,” or announces that “The morning paper slaps the driveway’s face/ And brings the wincing blush of dawn...” we savor a skill to be relied on, a promise of stored and readied excellence. Description by Anthony Hecht