his book is concerned with what happens when nothing happens—when lives move on without ceremony, and recognition arrives quietly rather than as rupture.
The poems move through rooms, relationships, work, parenting, and time, attending to the moment when usefulness thins and roles dissolve, when the body begins to notice what language cannot yet name.
There is a return to land and movement, not as answers, but as stabilising presences that remain when systems fall silent.
Written without ornament or explanation, the poems trust restraint, white space, and attention. They do not argue or instruct. They observe, and allow what is unfinished to remain.
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