Bio Note: I live in the woods a little east of Saugatuck, Michigan, and have taught college writing, literature, and peace-making for 36 years. My wife, psychotherapist Suzy Doyle, and I have six grown kids and significant others and six grandkids and in our scarce free time like nothing more than cycling the miles and miles of backroads here near Lake Michigan. My latest of nine collections are Flip Requiem (Dos Madres Press, 2020), Surreal Expulsion (The Poetry Box, 2019), and If god were gentle (Dos Madres Press, 2017).
—somewhat after G. M. Hopkins Rococo of branches’ scribbled bliss—to skies of cirrus filtering streaking-linen grace; to fuzzed nubs of antlers on young bucks out back; rotunda’d, wind-felled oaks; insects' notes; hedges shivered and lulled; dawn, water, and dune; to plants’ husks, tremors, vibrations, and tongues; stems’ tubes sculpted, impromptu, and smooth-furred; to whatso is furtive, vital, and taut-calm; still-strung; benignant-brute—their lyrics’ candor captures absolution.
Originally published in Amethyst Review
©2020 D. R. James
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