In this moving book of elegies, the dead mingle with the living. Multiple narratives weave themselves together in these poems, like streams running downhill outside the rooms of human ghosts. Aleshire writes of a loved (lost) one: 'Do you expect me/ to lead? You turned to me once on the highway, / hiking from the stranded plane.// I did, I do--I don't know how/ to answer absence, except by this/ attachment to the tangible, or: desire.