About the poet
Rebecca Goss has described poetry as ‘an invitation to look very closely at something’, and her...
My swims kept those scars at bay,
two thousand lengths it took, to form
my mapless globe. No trace she was here,
her travels around me refused to surface
as she dived between poles, lapped
that black belly ocean. Once born, meridian
of my achievements, she went off course.
I followed her divergent route, but this was not
her geography. I have wished for them,
a record of her tracks, all snowed over, gone.
from Her Birth (Carcanet/Northern House, 2013), © Rebecca Goss 2013, used by permission of the author and the publisher
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