new poems in public and submits them to magazines, readers will have to wait years to encounter [Carl] Wallman in her work. Living in a new place while finishing old poems, she is something like the graylag goose, which lingers as long as possible before lighting out for new territory. Yet already she speaks of her old work in the past tense. "My landscape was more the interior of a house," she said. Now the woods in spring green, summer glory, autumn splendor and winter white tint her consciousness.
from Concord Monitor: A poet's new place
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