Irene’s first poetry chapbook explores grief, loneliness, and a search for one’s self in a time of unraveling.

Irene Loy weaves raw, unrequited tenderness for place and person into these intimate poems of longing and loss, of braided roots and roots torn up. At heart is the question of how and where to love, and how one should be loved. Images of nature, solitude, rivers, stones, and alchemy conspire, suggesting something of Plath or O’Keeffe in the deserts of the southwest, and invoking Cixous in an écriture féminine that is both introspective and resolute.

James Reich – The Moth of the Star