The Far Field is closed for submissions. From February 2012 to February 2014, The Far Field showcased the depth and breadth and vibrancy of Washington State Poetry. It remains online as a resource and celebration of the poets of all levels who live and write in Washington.
The Far Field has been curated by Kathleen Flenniken, the 2012 – 2014 Washington State Poet Laureate. The Washington State Poet Laureate program is sponsored by Humanities Washington and the Washington State Arts Commission.
The 2014 – 2016 Washington State Poet Laureate was Elizabeth Austen. The 2016 – 2018 Washington State Poet Laureate is Tod Marshall. Please visit his site to learn about his plans and new programs.
SUBMISSIONS TO THE FAR FIELD
Submissions are no longer accepted. Please submit link updates to email@example.com.
PHOTOS OF WASHINGTON POETS:
Row 1: Timothy Kelly, Theodore Roethke, Sam Green, Storme Webber, Susan Rich, Richard Hugo, Christopher Howell, Christine Deavel, Colleen McElroy, Daemond Arrindell, David Wagoner, Derek Sheffield, Dixie Partridge, Oliver de la Paz, Frances McCue, Heather McHugh, Belle Randall
Row 2: Peter Pereira, Nancy Pagh, Raymond Carver and Tess Gallagher, Sherman Alexie, Tod Marshall, Nelson Bentley, Laura Read
Row 3: Richard Kenney, Bruce Beasley, Katrina Roberts, Kelli Russell Agodon, Kim-An Lieberman, Koon Woon, Larry Matsuda, Lucia Perillo, Laura Jensen, Linda Bierds, Martha Silano, Holly Hughes, Michael Hickey, Elizabeth Austen, Marjorie Manwaring, Jeremy Halinen, Rebecca Hoogs
Row 4: Judith Roche, Molly Tenenbaum, Jourdan Imani Keith, Joseph Green, Allen Braden, Jana Harris, Nance Van Winckel, Kevin Miller, Karen Finneyfrock, John Marshall
“The Far Field” is taken from a Theodore Roethke poem by the same name. Part 1:
I dream of journeys repeatedly:
Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel
Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula,
The road lined with snow-laden second growth,
A fine dry snow ticking the windshield,
Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic,
And no lights behind, in the blurred side-mirror,
The road changing from glazed tarface to a rubble of stone,
Ending at last in a hopeless sand-rut,
Where the car stalls,
Churning in a snowdrift
Until the headlights darken.