by Cilla McQueen. Published by Otago University Press, 2018. Reviewed by Meryn Gates

 Cilla McQueen’s Poeta is an absolutely beautiful book, from the front cover image to the poems, which are carefully punctuated by delicate sketches.

Poeta is a gathering of gems of McQueen’s life’s work. McQueen has chosen to order the poems by theme rather than chronology — so 1988 sits easily beside 2010.

My favourites are the poems set in a place, whether on a balcony in Berlin imagining the collapse of a neighbouring long-dead building from World War II, or on a verandah in New Zealand watching darkness falling on the harbour. McQueen summons up such a strong sense of place that I can feel myself there too.

I confess to losing concentration when reading long poems. This has nothing to do with McQueen; it is a personal failing. I find poems so intense, so much the concentrated essence of life, that I can take only a morsel at a time. However, I was carried along by the poems “1971” and “1982", both written in 2016 as a personal reflection on McQueen’s life and the people who have influenced her. The poems reminded me that McQueen is part of a community of writers and artists (including Hone Tuwhare and Ralph Hotere) and of the importance of collaboration.

Thank you Cilla McQueen for sifting through and teasing out for us such a well-crafted collection, giving us fresh insight to decades of seeing the world through your poet’s eyes.

Tui Motu magazine. Issue 235 March 2019: 31