the poet [Linda Gregg] has refined the emptiness: "Left alone in the stillness/in that pure silence married/to the stillness of nature."
But although Gregg documents the ravishments of love, I don't think of her as a love poet. These are allegories draped in the vestments of contemporary lyric love poems, where gone men serve as a metaphor for the lost divine.
from Los Angeles Times: 'All of It Singing: Poems' by Linda Gregg
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