Myra Connell's House is a startling debut collection of poems that are both enchanting and disquieting, that ask questions, look for clues, and mark out telling absences. The house itself might be deep in the woods, high on the moors, or alone at the end of an urban terrace; simultaneously a real place, and a body, a mind, a home for the soul. Is it a shelter or a fortress, solid or decaying, welcoming or defended? A cast of characters come and go from its spaces, the outside world presses in at the windows, wilderness awaits at the threshold.