Gallagher, whose decade-long relationship with the great short story writer Raymond Carver ended with Carver's early death to cancer in 1987, has written a masterpiece. Largely underrecognized, Moon Crossing Bridge has yet to receive its full due as one of the most deeply thoughtful and passionate poetic works on the subject of loss to emerge in recent memory. Gallagher has allowed the language that rose from her grief to carry her into the mystery that constitutes the borderland between the dead and those left behind. Her words sway like the tough threads of a hammock strung between the two worlds, holding us aloft as we allow ourselves to risk belief in paradoxical truths: that in the poetic universe to which Gallagher holds fast, a loved one can be truly with us and truly not with us at once, and loss and horror and delight can coexist in a strange harmony. In Gallagher's extraordinary book, the dark basin of terrible loss is not only inhabited, it is rich in hues and textures and possibilities. Using images culled as much from her travels around the world with Carver as from her years spent both with and without him in the Pacific Northwest, with this volume Gallagher has given a rare gift to those of us with loss in our backgrounds. She has journeyed as a shaman does, to map that enduring human trek from overwhelming pathos to multidimensional, even joyful, insight -- with unfailing courage and honesty. One day Gallagher will be seen for the unparalleled talent she is. For now, we who read and do the work to understand her words can be among a privaleged group of fierce and well-rewarded fans.