Poetry magazine, a consistently wondrous publication, concludes their December issue, their last issue of the year, with an essay on May Swenson that could not be gentler, nor more sweetly loving.
Example? Simply publishing a stanza that may be one of May Swenson's most charming poems, written late in her life:
The purpose of life is
to find the purpose of life
to find the purpose
of life is
She finds not just purpose, but pleasure in the finding out.