There’s a salty, tangible quality to Wild: to read it is to be swept up into

a world of sea and wind and air, of birds in flight. But in a language that

is both precise and rich, Libby Hart also finds words for intangibles like

loss and soul. ‘When tidings fall from his mouth I breathe anew,’ she

writes: similarly, reading this collection, you’ll find yourself ‘breathing

anew’, immersed in the beautiful and extraordinary landscape of

these poems.

Elizabeth Burns