‘This first book is packed with clear-eyed veracity, offers a shining resilience, personal insight and shared comfort…we are enjoined, a chorus.’ – Les Wicks

Few poets express the meeting of nature and emotion as tenderly as Susan McCreery. Her poems open with images of nature and draw the reader in to scenarios of such heartbreak and love it is at times hard to surface. The sparkle of a boy playing in the surf, the metallic sound of betrayal on a Greek island, the humidity of a summer’s night – part physical, part longing for what has been lost. Among these gentle poems are suggestions of violence, of politics, of alienation, all held in a lacuna, waiting for that southerly to bring the pressure down.

‘This first book is packed with clear-eyed veracity, offers a shining resilience, personal insight and shared comfort…we are enjoined, a chorus.’ – Les Wicks

Few poets express the meeting of nature and emotion as tenderly as Susan McCreery. Her poems open with images of nature and draw the reader in to scenarios of such heartbreak and love it is at times hard to surface. The sparkle of a boy playing in the surf, the metallic sound of betrayal on a Greek island, the humidity of a summer’s night – part physical, part longing for what has been lost. Among these gentle poems are suggestions of violence, of politics, of alienation, all held in a lacuna, waiting for that southerly to bring the pressure down.

‘This first book is packed with clear-eyed veracity, offers a shining resilience, personal insight and shared comfort…we are enjoined, a chorus.’ – Les Wicks

Few poets express the meeting of nature and emotion as tenderly as Susan McCreery. Her poems open with images of nature and draw the reader in to scenarios of such heartbreak and love it is at times hard to surface. The sparkle of a boy playing in the surf, the metallic sound of betrayal on a Greek island, the humidity of a summer’s night – part physical, part longing for what has been lost. Among these gentle poems are suggestions of violence, of politics, of alienation, all held in a lacuna, waiting for that southerly to bring the pressure down.