And - Greger, Debora

From the title poem: Ampersand pink as dead shrimp, the unborn curls in its tide pool--seed pearl whose mother lusters over irritant love it's too late to dislodge; little anemone, shrinking from touch. So and holds separate what it most closely binds. Review: "Ms. Greger's poems take place at the point of encounter between the mind and the worl