My poetry chapbook

“What flowers may come”

is available for purchase here. Yay!

About this book:

“Sarah Durrand writes with petal-soft vulnerability and deeply human power. This collection takes a heavy, overwhelming world and makes it feel intimate, delicate, and romantic.” 

– Kylie Ayn Yockey, Managing Editor, Blood Tree Literature

“Rustling and overgrown fields, a persimmon in hand, hazy cross-country train rides, wildflowers of every color. ‘What flowers may come’ projects dreamy meaning onto the surrounding landscape, revealing the unspoken, biggest meanings behind a life’s smallest moments. Through equal parts playfulness and pondering, wistfulness and whimsy, the author witnesses magic – and through her simple, vivid, and impactful poems, she invites you to witness magic around you, too.” - Finishing Line Press

Published Poetry

  • Red admiral

    “…Luck requires sacredness
    (which requires a nicer word, sacracy).
    I’ve learned you must ask a butterfly to beat the clouds away
    and nod to the crows when you see them…”

    Read

  • Raindrops after rain

    “…raindrops after rain
    have coalesced on the windchimes,
    the fence, the hummingbird feeder,
    like soft icicles on trees
    in crystalline waiting,
    like a thousand swords of Damocles…”

    Read

  • Desert verbena

    “…I’d lay on my back without hesitation,
    skin cracking like hardened mud,
    gratefully drinking drops from gray clouds.
    I wouldn’t look where I was going -
    close my eyes, flood, savor the flow…”

    Read

  • Citrus pleasure, pt. ii

    “…I notice myself breathing out
    for squeezed juice stirred with sugar
    in a yellow pitcher, with a wooden spoon.
    I notice myself breathing in
    I’ve waited so long for this harvest and
    am reminded of the power in waiting…”

    Read

  • In betrayal of Pablo Neruda

    “…If ever there were peace,
    it was a quiet, soft, clear afternoon
    on the shore of a teal lake.
    But you ruin it when you tell me
    I’m building a fairy home.
    I bite my tongue and swallow my secrets…”

    Read

  • At Monet's water lilies

    “…now, instead of
    driving
    and heat,
    you talk of bridges at dawn…”

    Read

  • Sunflower dreams

    “my visions take place on a mattress
    overflowing a frame, low to the ground
    where the quiet sounds of us
    pour onto the floor and
    spill outward the walls
    lapping against dark, dirty hardwood…”

    Read

  • You bought yourself pink carnations

    “…Pink carnations
    sing “be soft with yourself”
    as recollections build
    while you live in a home
    with someone who isn’t
    as nice as you hoped…”

    Read

  • Ancient philosopher

    …”but an ancient philosopher said that
    if you think of something, then it exists on some level
    so I drove my car through the same old streets,
    irrevocably changed and closer to you…”

    Read

  • In the backyard

    “…Red wine and succulents,
    impish thoughts, petulant,
    a hot and wistful temperament –
    my mind falls skyward
    to you…”

    Read

  • THE MOON

    “…You read online
    after hours of aimless
    staring at web pages
    that Jupiter is the
    closest it’s been in
    fifty-nine years…”

    Read

  • Wild grass

    “…I should like to lay you
    in a field of tall,
    wild grass,
    breathing in the breeze,
    hook myself to you…”

    Read

  • Montana bluegrasss

    “…Dream of me like Montana bluegrass,
    subtle and attuned to the
    breeze around me.
    I’ll dream of you like a
    Westbound train pouring over its tracks…”

    Read

  • The architecture of you

    “…The stars couldn’t long betray that
    you and I have a little of the same dust within us.
    Your eyes aren’t bloodshot, but blue,
    and your hair would be perfect with my fingers in it…”

    Read