In Tomorrow is a Holiday, Hamish Ballantyne resists the urge of revelation in favour of idiomatic observations.

Divided in four parts, the last of which draws on translations of San Juan de la Cruz, these poems sit by the ocean or by the felled spruce, from within the tent on the mountain or on city streets, and Ballantyne serves as a narrator at the margins of it all. The curious restlessness of a poet’s eye settling on the world, but there is much in the field of view and these deceptively simple scenes give way to exquisite sensitivity.