In Benninghoff's Whose Cries Are Not Music she asks "Don't we in
dying reveal who we are?" With a steadily dealt hand, somewhere
east, in a "tinseled diner" she reveals fortune's deck of
splintered seasons; the stray surprise: deer's blank eyes, a summer
gull's pierced solitude. These poems "shine brightly. They take the
stars away." Maureen Alsop Linda Bennninghoff is scrupulously
attentive to the underpinnings of living one's life, whether she's
watching gulls filling the empty sky like numberless dreams
("Gulls") or capturing the isolation and tenuous connections of
relationships, to absorb the many facets of the human condition and
give it back to the world with lyric precision. Her work runs wide
and deep. Barbara Southard
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