A man walks out a country lane, a Monteverdi lament in his head; a father guards his sleeping daughter; a translator grapples with the poetry of Brecht; a mother wishes for her child, Little heart / not yet hurt / beat on; and in an art gallery a charcoal print of a bird magically stills the place ... Irish poet Enda Wyley's fourth collection is a celebration of a contemporary world she has refreshingly made her own. These are poems, as noted by Poetry Ireland Review, which offer a "broad sweep of the 'inner eye' over her chosen subjects" - and they do so with subtlety and grace, the poet's questioning stance ever present: "How can I say what I really mean, just how it really is?" "Wyley's best work is intimate and celebratory... she celebrates love and poetry itself with tenderness and grace." - George Szirtes, The Irish Times