These poems are like valentines dropped in the snow.
Pink feather boas and spruce trees. Glitter and firelight. But don’t let the stardust fool you. There’s something visceral and warm-blooded just under the surface.
Simple, lovely and true.
Kirsty Elliot was accidently born in England because she’s Scottish. Her mom was a midwife and her Dad was a chemical engineer. She lived in Carnoustie until she was three and then moved to the Bahamas until she was seven. Life was all glass bottom boats and swimming all day until her dad was recruited by a nuclear power plant in Ontario. She spent the rest of her childhood in Inverhuron and then she thinks she went to high school in Port Elgin but she’s kind of blocked it out.
She attended Trent University until a global cycling addiction prevented her from finishing her Native Studies degree. She spent a decade living in the Yukon and Northwest Territories before moving down south to caretake a dreamy, private island. She spent three years living all alone in a house that floated in the ocean and looked like a walnut that fell from outer space. It was here that the poems in this book began to make themselves known.
She now lives with her husband and their two children on Lasqueti Island where they cleared some land, dug some ponds, made a garden and built a cute little plastic shack. They just spent their fourth winter all together in the plastic fantastic. So please buy this book. Hell, buy two.