Peter Scupham's eighth book of poems contains two central sequences: the first, written after the death of his mother, imagines various scenes from her life; the second is a more immediate recording of his father's conversations during the last few days of his life, as the poet nursed him. It is a brave and extraordinary book, in which Scupham's experience as a craftsman of words, and his haunted sense of time, come into their own. This book is intended for poetry lovers.