Midden Witch by Fiona Benson (Jonathan Cape, £13)
In her fourth collection Benson turns her fierce attention to the individuals hounded as witches. Her language is rich with “a broth of sweat” that brings middens – dunghills – and sweeter smells to life. Men’s power to conduct legalised persecution of women through accusations of sorcery is never far from the surface: “The church will pay a killing / for a witch.” These are poems cast as beautiful, intricate spells, reminding us there is more to life than we can hope to explain: “Perhaps we are all waiting / for the watcher in the dark, / attending to the glow / of that private thing, the soul.”
Dwell by Simon Armitage (Faber, £10)
The poet laureate uses the conceit of where animals live, their setts, hives and warrens, to ruminate on how other species can thrive in the face of human domination. Armitage’s tone is delightful. A squirrel in her drey is living “a non-stop stop-motion life”. Rather beautifully, “every hare / is a broken heart / with legs”. Best of all are the Tripadvisor-style reviews in Insect Hotel: “Dark and dingy. Had to ask a glow-worm to show me to my room.” These are poems full of a winning, pleasurable charm.
