Fiona Moore

Fiona Moore’s first full-length collection, The Distal Point (HappenStance 2018), has been shortlisted for the 2019 T.S. Eliot Prize and was a Poetry Book Society Recommendation for autumn 2018. She lives in Greenwich, London. In 2004 she left her career in the Foreign Office to write and work part-time for a sustainable development NGO. She reviews poetry, was an assistant editor at The Rialto and is currently on the editorial board of Magma, co-editing the November 2018 issue on the theme of climate change. The first of her two HappenStance pamphlets, The Only Reason for Time, was a Guardian poetry book of the year and the second, Night Letter, was shortlisted for the Michael Marks Award for Poetry Pamphlets.

Photo: Naomi Woddis


Five O’Clock Verses »

Reading: Alan Spence, Fiona Moore

Thu 7 March | 17:00 - 18:00 | £6.50/£4.50 | Parliament Hall, South Street

Change »

A digital installation of poems and images from Magma Poetry’s climate change issue

Thu 7 March - Sun 10 March | 10:00 - 22:00 | FREE | The Byre Theatre, Abbey Street, Level 2 Foyer

Breakfast at the Poetry Café: Another Place »


Enjoy your breakfast sunny side up at the festival’s Poetry Café

[This link will be live once the event starts, with all the poetry and chat, but alas not the pastries!]

Fri 8 March | 10:00 - 11:10 | £4.75/£3.75 | The Byre Theatre, Abbey Street, Studio Theatre

Meet the Artist »

Poets read from Magma’s Climate Change Issue

Sat 9 March | 11:30 - 12:15 | free / ticketed | The Byre Theatre, Abbey Street, Conference Room

Festival Launch Extravaganza »

Enjoy a sneak peek of some of the highlights of StAnza 2019

Wed 6 March | 18:30 - 20:45 | free / ticketed | The Byre Theatre, Abbey Street, Auditorium


This very room

It will happen soon – the man will appear
in the room where he has been
for a long time in my thoughts.
A particular moment will deliver him
which is what time sometimes does: a ghost
of the imagination so habituated
that his appearance might be caused by
longing rather than by the real man,
flesh and blood as he is, having travelled here
by train and walked up the hill.
Flesh and blood – not that he’s those to me
beyond the loving, momentary embrace.
I can see him displace invisibility,
reading along my bookshelves
or in profile looking out the window at the trees,
interested as he always is, but this time
here. He’ll enjoy the poster of Polish cartoons
and I’ll tell him their story,
how the censors refused permission for the one
of the sea and a post on which hangs
a lifebelt entwined with barbed wire. 
How I forget that it’s not there.


Fiona Moore

From The Distal Point (HappenStance, 2018)