"Private Pleasures" by Connie Bensley (Bloodaxe, 2007)

I recall liking "To Be a Swan", a collection she published in 1994. This book isn't as sharp or wry. Like the earlier book it doesn't take long to read, but this time I didn't feel I'd re-read it. When a poem begins with "When I walked back from your house last week it seemed so mild for October. The last of the light was gold over the river, and when I passed the pond five geese flew up in formation banking low over the rooftops." it's going to need a thumping punchline.