The Demoread
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The Demoread

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200913 | The wind bent forest, Tom Thomson, and the objects of our consideration

Hello from the ravine. The maple felled in April lies on the bank, its dismembered form covered in kudzu, swallowed by green and damp earth. For as long as I am, there will it be. A group of teens walks past: “There is literally a dead body in there.” I open the door prepared to reply You have no idea but my appearance…

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A weekly letter on art, music, books, teaching, writing, and the ravine behind my house. Delivered Sundays.

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E.E. Demore

E.E. Demore

Educator and essayist.

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