Pauline Stainer is a poet 'working at the margins of the sacred', conveying sensations 'with an economy of means that is breathtaking...her poems are not merely artefacts, they have an organic life of their own' (John Burnside). Crossing the Snowline, charts her return to life after numbing grief. These luminous poems are a testament of recovery, renewal and redemption. Pauline Stainer writes: 'I think this collection, varied as it is, is primarily the record of my journey out of long fallow after the death of my daughter. It's not confessional, but explores obliquely the nature of that fallow, and the necessity of living by light even in darkness. Many things inform the poems: my learning to paint ('the swirling oxides'), light on landscape in different places, Suffolk, Orkney, India, Japan, and the Azores. For a time, grief took away the magical currency of the word - a strange experience for a poet. I had to wait with the patience of one of those pack animals from the salt desert, for an upbeat - the pressure of sap in sunlight on ground of vermilion. And yes, the light is different. Its after light. But I'm still driven to catch in words the stars and their electric circus, and to write in praise of flying squirrels.'