One poem early in Levin's fourth collection begins, “We were born to be blessed, to be torn into being/ Alive, to be weary and open and lost”; it represents well the collection's strength of feeling, its striving for optimism even in wartime and its tropism toward the new. Though Levin (Mercury
) is known for her use of inherited forms, few of these short, intense poems adopt rhyme or obvious meter; instead, they work hard for sincerity and variety, alternating between long, clear sentences and breathy, short lines. Her topics also vary, from present loves to Greek and Roman antiquity, sometimes making one of the topics comment on the rest. “Boy with a Thorn” addresses a bronze sculpture of a runner from 2,000 years ago, supposedly a military messenger who died on the job: “If this is the first time/ You faltered in the middle of everything,/ It will not be the last.” Some of Levin's new poems should please fans of W.S. Merwin, and others should appeal to admirers of Mary Oliver. Sometimes she avoids skepticism almost too well, drawing conclusions so simple they are hard to trust: at other times, though, her commitment to lyricism comes as a breath of summer air. (May)
