Thérèse Corfiatis seeks out beauty and spirit in simple things: the curl of a wave the flight of cockatoos yellow-flecked tails flashing / like airborne sunflowers (Black Cockatoos). She searches for ancestral homeland and belonging - my dispossession torn away / a birthing wound healed up (The Bridge at Csíkrákos) - and presents them to the reader with wonder honesty and freshness.