In her debut collection, Even the Trees, Roshni Gallagher asks what can be seen, named, or remembered. From Scotland to Guyana, the poems explore the porous boundary between the past and the present, and how ecological landscapes and landscapes of the mind and body are permanently altered by migration and memory. The elegiac series of poems Kala Pani reflects on the history and legacy of Indian indentured labourers in the Caribbean.

Following the experience of women in the moment of rupture as they cross the ocean, these poems hover at the border of what is known and unknown. Other poems navigate stories from Gallagher’s mixed heritage, from the Windrush generation to the sod houses in Ireland. She explores the tension between historical and personal silence – what can and can’t be spoken about.

But stories are retained in the objects around us, from a pair of earrings made from stolen gold to a painting of a waterfall in the childhood home. The poems look through windows, emerge from darkness, and traverse spaces ‘on the edge of things’ where land gives way to water. Seeing and being seen are often painful, yet there is beauty, healing, and connection in what we choose to give our attention to.