Poetry. The rain licks at the gingerbread roof of the world/ wet mouse, this question mark/ somewhere in a book, somewhere in another century. Daniela Crasnaru's writing delves beneath descriptive surface out of an impossible need to revivify the cold, experiential jewels encased in memory, to recreate something breathing and visceral. This process, in her hands, results in poems of rare brilliance and philosophical depth -- Barbara Jordan.