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"I write for those women who do not speak," said Audre Lorde. But in the case of Paper Cranes, Dinah Dietrich writes as a lesbian speaking for herself, with delicacy and honesty, about her journey from silence to speech. The poems are situated in a diminished present, remembering childhood and family, painful and pleasurable moments, like the red paper crane of the title poem which gave her "the gift of experience / the gift of memory." With the utmost economy, a small stanza can evoke a lifetime of deprivation: "In my room at home, / I struggle for light. / The plants strangle / at the small window." With a fine ear and a light touch, Dietrich courageously charts a course back to life from the brink of death. For those of us who have been to this outsider's hell, it's a comfort to hear the voice of a sister traveler.