Absence of Clouds

Therese Corfiatis seeks out beauty and spirit in simple things: the curl of a wave, the flight of cockatoos ';yellow-flecked tails flashing / like airborne sunflowers' (';Black Cockatoos'). She searches for ancestral homeland and belonging ';my dispossession torn away / a birthing wound healed up' (';The Bridge at Cskrkos') and presents them to the reader with wonder, honesty and freshness.