They were wrong,
here is there. The tree
that fell overnight
still shimmers
with flailing roots.
Findings, openings,
bones that can be
cleared from the shale,
time is a hawk
& I’m a hawk
& even our flights
are not so elegant.
It’s all bodies,
awkwardly falling
into each other.
Think. Think. Crash.
—About Darren C. Demaree—
My poems have appeared, or are scheduled to appear in numerous magazines/journals, including Hotel Amerika, Diode, North American Review, New Letters, Diagram, and the Colorado Review. I am the author of twenty-three poetry collections, most recently ‘So Much More’ (November 2024, Harbor Editions). I am the Editor in Chief of the Best of the Net Anthology and Managing Editor of Ovenbird Poetry. I am currently living and writing in Columbus, Ohio with my wife and children.
Read More of Darren’s work HERE!
—About the Image—
Dry creek bed in Kimble county, Texas: A black-and-white landscape photograph shows a broad, shallow creek winding across a dry, stony bed through scrubland. Pale gravel bars and scattered rocks border the water, while low shrubs and small leafless trees dot the banks. In the foreground, several fallen branches lie across the creek bed, including one long limb stretching diagonally through the frame and another tangled cluster of weathered wood near the opposite bank. Beyond the creek, dense brush rises toward low, gently rolling hills beneath a wide, softly clouded sky.
Russell Lee, 1940, for the Farm Security Administration (FSA). From NYPL Digital Collections.