For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Quinterview 21


As soon as we read the first stanza of Annette Volfing's poem Run, we knew we wanted to publish her in The Passionate Transitory: 'She had hoped for a hare. / Just one, something fast and mad / ripping the moon-damp fields, / a thumper like herself . . .' She sees the world with a delightfully fresh eye, and her poems capture moments with imagistic precision. We love her description of a garden 'creaking' under the snow in her poem Whiteout, and her image of muntjacs stepping out of a cloud in Run has visionary power. 

Annette Volfing

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