Reviewer George Beddow writes - Derek Summers’ poetry is marked by sincerity, honesty and compassion. His world may be resolutely godless but he remains a pilgrim forever in pursuit of truth and beauty. There is an unashamed social and political commitment that is rare. Is the god that was missing in Dresden the same one that was found wanting in Baghdad? His poems attest to suffering on a personal scale too. In lines taut with a nervous energy, the emotion may be frighteningly stark but is couched in language rich and strange. Not Hannibal Lecter startles while Loss and In Chichester Cathedral are almost unbearably moving. There is humour and lyricism too. Scythian Warrior winks at Rilke’s Archaic Torso of Apollo while, elsewhere, Marx, Heine and (ominously) Van Gogh make their entrances and exits - the latter in a vignette of luminous pictorial clarity. Finding consolations amid conflict - whether internal or external - is difficult at the best of times. Sharing them even more so. This is what the poet does in this new collection.