Mythic and familial beasts roam the swamps and moors of Pascale Petit's Beast, a collection that ranges from the Camargue of Provence, the limestone Causses and gorges of the Languedoc, Indian tiger forests, the Amazon rainforest, to her home by Bodmin Moor in Cornwall.

Some of these remote places are vestiges of earth's pristine habitats, while other wildernesses are encaged in cellars of Paris, along with the world's last species. Their essence is evoked in lithe and luxurious lines sometimes compressed as a trapped animal. An estranged father reappears as a hunter, while Maman is an orb spider or a grand piano; both are predators. And there are earthly beasts wild horses and bulls, lammergeiers, bee-eaters and catfish, remnants of a vanishing natural world.

Beast asks if survival is possible in an abusive family and on an abused home planet, with trials such as climate change, childhood trauma and war. These poems face difficult challenges and insist that making art is an act of love and hope, and there are joyful lyrics celebrating the ineffable beauty of endangered species.