I studied with Sandra Gilbert and then husband, Elliott Gilbert, back in 1989. Saddened when I learned of Elliott's death, I could not bring myself to read her book, Wrongful Death. Twenty years have passed and she has loved and lost (to death) another brilliant man. In these poems, the speaker bravely examines the aging process and laments her late love. While her body may be decaying, her mind is sharp: the poems are well-crafted, piercing vignettes, many of them sonnets. I am impressed not only with her ability to love again, but to continue to transform pain into art. The first three sections of the book work together very effectively, creating narratuve out of the moments and images of their time together, both happy and then, in hospital. Perhaps I was just emotionally spent, but the last two sections, one called "Drash," suggestive of Midrash's retelling of Biblical stories and tiptoeing around some spiritual questions, seemed like not fully integrated afterthoughts to the already powerful Aftermath. ( )