Feminist, philosophical and linguistically playful poems on identity, motherhood and the family from the perspective of someone with a mixed cultural heritage.

In her debut collection, Sarah Windebank explores her Swedish roots, and especially the influence of Mormor, her grandmother, who brought her up until she was fifteen. Growing up in a household where her mother and grandmother always spoke to each other in a foreign language, but never taught her, she picked up ‘glittering fragments, rather like a magpie’. With nods to Sylvia Plath and Elizabeth Bishop, this is an immersive collection of poetry full of accent and domestic detail, at once foreign and familiar.