Common Magic

Place and Colour in the Poetry of Bronwen Wallace

This week, I’m writing you from the backseat of a minivan on my way to the town of Volcano on the Big Island where maybe I’ll get to see Sasha Duerr. Last week when I wrote to you about thorns, I was travelling by train through a snowstorm into the troubled landscape of my teenaged years. Kingston. A limestone town with three prisons, underground rivers…