"Like its title, the poems in Lorna Shaughnessy’s wonderful new collection encompass flow and flight. Drawing on dream and story, they dodge nothing of the turbulence and grit of a life in full flow. Here are poems of extraordinary tenderness, as an elderly parent endures his last months — my boy-sized father, pupa in cocoon. And, albeit hard-won, here is exhaltation at the turn of a year scarred by loss as, even one thread/can become the first in a weave/that sparks a multi-coloured paisley/with blazing tongues of Zoroastrian fire." – MOYA CANNON

"Like its title, the poems in Lorna Shaughnessy’s wonderful new collection encompass flow and flight. Drawing on dream and story, they dodge nothing of the turbulence and grit of a life in full flow. Here are poems of extraordinary tenderness, as an elderly parent endures his last months — my boy-sized father, pupa in cocoon. And, albeit hard-won, here is exhaltation at the turn of a year scarred by loss as, even one thread/can become the first in a weave/that sparks a multi-coloured paisley/with blazing tongues of Zoroastrian fire." – MOYA CANNON

"Like its title, the poems in Lorna Shaughnessy’s wonderful new collection encompass flow and flight. Drawing on dream and story, they dodge nothing of the turbulence and grit of a life in full flow. Here are poems of extraordinary tenderness, as an elderly parent endures his last months — my boy-sized father, pupa in cocoon. And, albeit hard-won, here is exhaltation at the turn of a year scarred by loss as, even one thread/can become the first in a weave/that sparks a multi-coloured paisley/with blazing tongues of Zoroastrian fire." – MOYA CANNON