Once again, as in Love Poems the sections take their names from lines within poems, and once again this works perfectly. The household spirits of 'Domestic Interiors' are perhaps the most ineffable, with Kent MacCarter's pantoum 'Expecting High Velocity' especially so. Loss or lack of faith is a surprisingly strong strand in the collection, most notably Anna Ryan-Punch's poem about the loss of belief: 'Every Sunday, like a quiet furnace / I drew a soft, warm text / from a dark oak slot and registered / my complaint with the angels.'

Kate Lumley's starkly terrifying poem at the end of the book, on the 'road to El Paso' offers a starker apostasy. And yet there is, everywhere, corner-of-the-eye lightness and wonder. This deceptively small book sits in the hand, lightly, like a missal, but its lack of certainty and its clarity make it a more interesting proposition than that. It deserves to live in your bag, dog-eared and encouraging.