younger, she wrote of transcendence beyond
the body, of ecstasies grander than
what the flesh can offer; she wrote of
experiences so wholly spiritual
nothing might compare. such were her metaphors
many considered sublime . . . with age and life
experience, her poetry turned more
toward the body, the thrill of nerves touched by
hands of her true love; later, the bodily
longing for her abandoner, thence to
thrills of a new love; as a mother, she
wrote of such sensations as birth and nursing;
now in dotage, she writes of the cats who
keep her company while she pines for youth.

David M Pitchford