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Wyndmere by Carol Muske (University of Pittsburgh: $12.95; 59 pp.)

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Ah, that wonderful, rare thing: a poet who has the ability to deepen the secrets of experience even while revealing them. Carol Muske’s third book of poems, “Wyndmere,” enchants--not with the sweetness of an unconscious sleeping beauty but with the glint and magic of a highly skilled writer who uses her knowledge deftly, pulling us in until we’re thoroughly immersed in the alchemical brew of real poetry.

One of Muske’s strengths is her ease in merging autobiographical detail with the inner realm of thought and feeling. Her contemplation of experience is personal yet moves further, into the spiritual and philosophical; then it belongs not only to the poet but to all of us. The first section of the book deals primarily with the past, emphasizing the importance of a mother and grandmother. Muske is less interested in simple influences on behavior than on powerful psychic exchanges: “ . . . I read/ because you said to . . . Poetry’s the air we drown in together,/ mother, poetry’s the turning room,/ the clear field mined with words/ you read first. . . . “ Again and again, she returns to the effect of poetry on spirit: “Hell is the absence of metaphor,” and “ . . . souls drift in permanent/ transience, in the light-distance of God’s photograph,/ which some call Poetry.” As the writing progresses, the past opens into the present, which includes travel, literature, loves, and culminates with the birth of a daughter.

Muske has developed a reputation as a poet, winning prizes and grants, teaching at the University of Southern California. There’s a temptation to believe that poets who do well for themselves in the world don’t take risks in their writing, have become careful in order to be accepted. Muske’s work does show her training--these poems are honed and consciously crafted. But rather than diminishing the heat of the writing, her educated containment and grace increase it. She’s discovered a way to work magic within the boundaries of technical achievement. That’s quite an accomplishment.

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