I received two books of poems by Mary Oliver, about whom I know very little. I've started reading them yesterday (the package arrived at my house about a week ago, but I've been out of town pretty much the whole time), and her poems are quite good.

So, thanks Mr. Gifter.

By the way, here's an example of one of her great poems:

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting

over and over announcing your place in the family of things.