Poetry. In the opening poem of her last book of poetry, Diane Lutovich writes about moving from one house to another; in the last poem, she writes about how she will soon leave on "a new kind of trip," the kind each of us must take alone. In between, she longs for spring in California, misses Paris, goes swimming in Mexico, remembers the past, treasures the present, prepares to leave behind everything she loves, and cherishes the world she exists in every day. The poems in this brave book are both rueful and triumphant, measured and passionate, and shot through with a wild kind of joy in life's plenitude. As Jackie Kudler writes in the book's foreword: "That art can grace its gifted toilers with immortality remains one of life's most reliable miracles. For here, among these pages, we find Diane again--laughing, complaining, considering, affirming--and always very much alive."