Sarah Broom's book opens beautifully, with a diagnosis inappropriately of a terminal cancer blurted out to a small family playing in the snow, the impact shown by a focus on the youngest, least comprehending child: So they stood there, the little one lost in any case in this too white world, his too cold hands stiff in his wet wool gloves, his feet stuck somewhere miles down below. read more

Broom's Tigers at Awhitu is an immensely powerful debut collection, which enters directly into the vicinities of darkness, light, and the spaces in-between. read more

'These are poems that are as alive to the darkness of motherhood as they are to its frantic joys.' read more

'This is a tremendous collection.' read more

Tigers at Awhitu is, appropriately for New Zealand poetry, a collection engaged with the sea and with water altogether. read more