Marie Ponsot's third volume of poems is full of sensible philosophical speculations. She considers how “Time threads the random,” the relations of freedom to commitment, revolution, experimentation and the nature of fiction. Typically, in “The Problem of Gratified Desire,” her method is allegorical. A physical situation illustrates an abstract title:

The pleasure of this poem is that of a well- done miniature. One is reminded of the superb initial capitals of medieval manuscripts. With her lighterhearted poems, one is reminded of the delightful doodles to be found in the margins of medieval French breviaries. The “drop of perfect sweetness / hot at the bottom of the cup” is a salubrious footnote. One is happy to have it. One admires it. If one is unmoved, and a bit dubious of a technique that seems too mechanical and strained to allow for much brilliance and passion, one enjoys the tendency to wit and the active intelligence. If the line “pleasure exchanged were infinite” is quite meaningless, one is tempted to overlook it. The smoothness and harmony are compelling.

This is a minor poetry of minor excellences. Marie Ponsot, who was born in New York, is the translator of 32 children's books as well as the author of two previous volumes of poetry and the recipient of a creative writing award from the National Endowment for the Arts. One cannot quibble either with this award or with the laudatory comments her poetry has elicited from such fellow poets as Philip Booth and Darcy Hall (printed on the jacket). In a time when poetry criticism seems to consist of the puffery of nonexistent genius, or worse, nonexistent poetic abilities, it is pleasant to attempt to mark out a healthy, fertile garden spot, and to note that poets such as Marie Ponsot occupy it. Trained in the art, they neither hinder its progress nor carry it forward. Instead, they do the unpretentious and necessary work of maintaining standards, often high standards. Ponsot describes this role best herself in “Wearing the Gaze of an Archaic Statue”: “and her small touching skill is: / holding nothing.”