Sarajevo Roses is Rory Waterman's second collection of poems.
From the start we are in the company of a poet on the move .
On sleeper trains, in cars and on foot, Waterman takes us into Mediterranean Europe, to Palma's Bellver Castle, to Venice, to Kruje, to the Italian ghost-town Craco, and to St Peter's Basilica in Vatican City, where `selfie-sticks dance before us at the altar'.
Sarajevo's `neatened muddle of terracotta and concrete' is twinned with the `church spires and rain-bright roofs' of the poet's former hometown, Lincoln. The Sarajevo rose of the book's title - a mortar crater filled with red resin, in remembrance - is less an overarching symbol here than one example of the past inscribed upon the present - culturally in our architecture, individually on our bodies - and of the instinct to preserve wounds as a mark of respect, or warning.
Surrounded by the war-shaped, memorial landscapes of Europe, the poet is faced by those smaller wars and memorials one carries within, marks left by lovers, friends, relations, and past selves.