Sarah Wardle's poetry in her first collection ranges from playful wit to gentle lyrics, exploring a personal geography from country to city. Every poem covers different territory, but in each the voice is distinctly hers: 'sparky and feisty' (Sheenagh Pugh), with 'a hint of darkness and wicked wit' (Roddy Lumsden). She can be mischievously inventive - imagining a Parliament of poets, or a people's revolution at the Palace - as well as powerfully reflective (the horror of a Sussex car bomb). And she confronts the suffering, treatment and prejudice of schizophrenia in poems such as 'Psyche', 'Digitalis', 'Metamorphosis' and 'Flight', in which we watch her, like a released blackbird, 'spread her wings and soar'. Shortlisted for 2003 Forward Prize for Best First Collection.