Great Regulars: Metaphorically, the depths [Jenny] Lewis plumbs

are internal. Her poems delve into her own past, recalling with powerful specificity her mother, who "always had fresh flowers"; a beloved grandmother who "said 'hark!' instead of 'listen!'"; the loneliness of boarding school, its chill undiminished by the passage of time.

from Sarah Crown: The Guardian: Dale and depth

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