I love Wright's work, even though I wasn't introduced to it until grad school where it was taught me by an enthusiast, James Dickey. He noted that, having been stationed in Australia during the war, he'd come into contact with those familiar with her and her work. But, pardon, what struck me was your comment, "much of it feels like a contemporary poem." Gracious! 1946 is "contemporary" in the larger sense at least, isn't it? Where do we draw lines?