Yet my eye is drawn once again, Almost against its wishes, To the figure in the shadows, Willowy, and clean-shaven, As if he simply wandered in Between mending that fuse And washing the breakfast dishes. --from "The Bearded Woman, by Ribera" Sven Birkerts has said, "It is not usual for a poet of Muldoon's years to have an oeuvre disclosing significant shifts and evolutions. But Muldoon, more than most, is an artist in high flight from self-repetition...