From the quiet of a frozen lake
to the questions we carry.
Poetry for people who don't know if they like poetry.
The questions are more important than the answers, and frequently also are one and the same.
These poems live in the turning of a year — January by a frozen lake, April tilting over its skis, a December that is a good day for a hanging. They are about time and truth, and what those two do to a person.
Family, friendship, fatherhood, the forest, and the long argument with meaning that goes on whether or not you join in. Written in Grey Bruce, Ontario, and best enjoyed — as the back cover has it — with a sunset and a scotch.
About Daniel
Poet and essayist, living in Grey Bruce, Ontario. The outdoors is home base — the ground, the rain, existing in the elements. The boxes we build for ourselves aren't base reality.
Long bio to come.
A handful from the collection. The rest are in the book.
Six of one hundred and four.
A debut collection that dwells in both the abstract and the mundane, the ordinary and the divine, the universal and the personal. As with many of the questions found within, the act of seeking is the point, rather than finding a conclusion.
Features and essays, mostly for Rrampt.