Earth, Mercy

In her new collection, Earth, Mercy, Mary Rose O'Reilley sifts through the debris of human habitation -- pink thong sandals, curlers, broken televisions -- looking for a kind of junkyard grace: &quote;Holiness enters again / turquoise fins, and the Cessna's carapace / lifts on its wind.&quote; The first poem, &quote;Genesis,&quote; locates the reader in Edenic time, &quote;in that humid and green / arrival,&quote; while the last, &quote;Watching the End of the World from Hovland, Minnesota,&quote; gives nature a final word: &quote;Morels on goat prairie gloat / in their blue light. Spruce / speaking of green on green.&quote; Between these points, any poem offers a threshold over which something unexpected may pass -- a ghost, an angel, or the yap of an insouciant dog alerting us to apocalypse. Against all that threatens our survival, Earth, Mercy asserts the beauty of our poignantly sensual life.