Hi, I’m Dara.
Here, you’ll find poems, rituals, fragments, and fieldnotes— held with care and made in mourning.
I returned to writing after the sudden death of my father, and everything I make is rooted in that rupture.
I write from the domestic and natural world—field edges, hummingbirds, fridge notes, and quiet rituals. The places where grief settles and spirit lingers. My work explores memory, loss, and the sacred ordinary—what we carry, what we lose, and what we try to name in the quiet afterward. I believe in stillness, in symbols, and in sparse, clean lines that hold emotion without having to explain it. My challenge to myself: make less more.
I’m currently part of the July 2025 Tupelo Press 30/30 Project and working on two poetry collections:
Unpicked: a manuscript shaped by the sudden death of my father.
Numerology: a chapbook inspired by “angel numbers,” flirting with form and rooted in personal and spiritual counting.
When I’m not writing, I lead research, evaluation, and learning initiatives for nonprofits and public agencies across the country at the Trust for Public Land, specifically within their internal think tank, the Land and People Lab.
When I’m not writing or working, I like taking one-off visual art classes, walking slowly through Hampden or the woods, petting my calico cat, floating in pools at Druid Hill Park and my aunt’s house, and playing with my nieces in New Jersey. Latest obsession: trying to attract toads to my garden.