Anterooms

“Richard Wilbur’s imagination has regarded life in the bud—the seedling, the fledgling, the sprout, the egg,” writes Mary Jo Salter of the nearly 90-year-old poet’s latest volume. “His flowering never ceases to unfold.” Wilbur’s late poems, distilled to simplicity from a lifetime of intricate meters and imagery, are epitomes of lyric inspiration.

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