“Pippa Little moves in territories where exile is ever present, where treasures are hoarded: the words of the mother tongue, a lost Jewish quarter, a father's library, the crystals of a mine; the poems memorialise the almost forgotten, even forsaken detritus on a beach. There’s a sense of Middle European wandering between states, post-war dislocations: she's collected it all in her spar box of brilliant poetry.”

Jackie Litherland

“Pippa Little's poetry, like family, like forests made from windblown spaces, is a settled land. It's full of the voices of the ordinary, but changed. There's something unsettling, lovely, Siberian here, that can see ourselves as 'rickety skeletons of light inside the dusk's skin'.

Gillian Allnutt