The prevailing mood of The Pelts of Wasps is one of unease, often sad, tinged with pleasure, barbed with pain. The poems hold a worried balance between celebration and anxiety, restraint and longing. Constantine writes: "Most of the poems in this new collection have to do with the pressure of consciousness, and the determined will of that individuality to press back and extend itself. The poems continue old obsessions, love, and loss, but these in reality are never repetitious since we are always, each time, older".