Family Lines

I’m delighted to have a poem published in a new Faber anthology, Family Lines, edited by Simon Armitage and Rachel Bower. It’s Muscle Memory, a poem inspired by a Christmas Eve service in Norwich Cathedral which I took my Dad to not long after he had moved into a care home.

My Dad has always loved Christmas, and Norwich Cathedral has been a particularly special place for him ever since he first moved to Norwich in 1970, so I felt that the afternoon service on Christmas Eve might be something that he would still enjoy, despite the progression of his Alzheimer’s disease. That very much proved to be the case, and it was incredible to see the power of both music and muscle memory, as the organ played the introduction to each carol and he was able to push himself up to stand and sing, with an ease that had otherwise seemed lost to him.

One of my favourite features of Norwich Cathedral is its copper font, which was previously used to melt toffee at the Rowntree’s chocolate factory, and which stands in the west end of the nave. At the end of the Christmas Eve service the choir processes to this end, where we were sitting that year, and the huge west doors are opened. I wanted to end my poem there because this is such an awe-inspiring moment in the service, and also because it’s a reference to a poem my Dad wrote many years ago, inspired by the Christmas Eve service at King’s College Chapel, Cambridge. You can hear me explaining this ‘secret reference’ in an episode of The Verb on Radio 4, broadcast on 15th June 2025.

Muscle Memory is one of the poems in my debut collection, The Opposite of Swedish Death Cleaning, published by Seren Books.

Family Lines is available in bookshops and on the Faber website. It’s a wonderful, varied collection and would make an excellent gift. I think that my Dad would be delighted that the final poem in it is Heredity by Thomas Hardy, one of his favourite poems.

Fathers, witches and things that fall out of books: The Verb, with Ian McMillan

It was a dream come true to have the opportunity to read and talk about three poems from The Opposite of Swedish Death Cleaning on BBC Radio 4’s The Verb, hosted by Ian McMillan, and alongside guests Fiona Benson, Boo Hewerdine and Yvonne Lyon.

The show is available on BBC Sounds, and also as a podcast.

Although the focus of my segment was on writing about a parent with dementia – something that felt particularly poignant given that the programme was aired on Fathers’ Day – I was really glad that Ian had selected Muscle Memory for me to read and discuss, as it’s a reminder of the moments of joy that can still be found even amidst so much loss. Here’s a photo of the beautiful copper font in Norwich Cathedral ‘that stretched our faces like toffee’ – an allusion to the fact that it was donated when the Rowntree’s chocolate factory closed down, having previously been used to melt toffee.

I love Fiona Benson’s collection Midden Witch, so it was brilliant to hear her talking about the stories behind some of these poems, like The Witch of Easington and Jenny Greenteeth. Some of my favourite poems in this collection are those inspired by birds and animals, and it’s fascinating to see how placing them in a section entitled ‘Familiars’ curiously shifts the reader’s perspective on creatures such as bowerbirds and snails.

Boo Hewerdine and Yvonne Lyon’s songs about things that fall out of books tied the whole show together, and it was spine-tingling to hear their music up close in the studio. I was so touched that Boo set a line from Inside the House of Delirium to music: ‘The curtains sleep until midday’.

If we’d had more time, I would have shared this poppy petal that fell out of my great grandmother’s Bible, which she used as a flower press. It’s incredible to think that it must have been flowering in a Cornish hedgerow in the 1880s.