"How does Jean LeBlanc make her poems so comfortably alive? Her candor, yes. Images already there. Full of surprise, but amiably free of shock. She is one of us, being singular. Such a pleasure, then, to enter and re-enter her world, poem after poem, and to share in the canny play of her language, to follow the casual gambits of her agile mind as she turns the commonplace on its ear. On her ear. I laughed out loud. I'm so pleased. I ache with the unexpected familiarity of her feelings. Her fancies. I find I am thinking of her as Jeannie. Look out! Look out! It's like falling in love again. I'm going to read AT ANY MOMENT, one poem a day, to my wife"—Edward Lueders.
