Sarah Day was born in England and grew up in Tasmania, Australia.
Grass Notes (Brandl & Schlesinger 2009) is her most recent collection.
The Ship (Brandl & Schlesinger 2004) won the University of Melbourne Wesley Michel Wright Prize 2004, the Queensland Premier’s Judith Wright Calanthe Award for Poetry 2005 and was joint winner of the ACT Art & Literary Awards’ Judith Wright Prize with Joanne Burns.
In 2002 her New and Selected Poems was published by Arc in UK where it received a Special Commendation by the Poetry Book Society. It was shortlisted for the NSW Premier’s Awards. Before that, Quickening (Penguin Books Australia Ltd.) was published in ... more »
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Sarah Day Poems
I think I’ve been waiting for you all my life. To glimpse you through the kitchen window scratching between iris and daffodil, disrupting roots, sprawling moll-like
Things fall apart. Across a summer sky the emblematic Coca Cola script above the uproar, miles long, a mile high
The wombat lay, full length, as long as a big dog, but thicker set, a mass of weight and muscle. Soft still, his bulk gave but didn’t shift.
The rattle of wind in sclerophyll is the murmur of cosmic dust and particle shift. With each break in the clouds the queue shuffles
Comments about Sarah Day
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I think I’ve been waiting for you all my life.
To glimpse you through the kitchen window
scratching between iris and daffodil,
disrupting roots, sprawling moll-like
in a patch of sun, wings spread flush
with the ground, a coquettish leg
in the air and rolling lascivious eye.
You’re disruptive of course –
annuals, seedlings go by the wayside,
Christmas lilies cordoned off,
brassicas like khaki interns on parade –
but what small price
for that vigorous rustling
as mulch scatters from under hedges,
to have you beady at my side
grabbing worms as I pull ...