“A train whistle, a smear of black ice, a mouthful of fishhooks–out of these nicked, glittering elements, Darcy Smith’s River Skin transforms loss into “a torn place on [her] sleeve,” a dwelling place in which, despite each vanishing, we remain. Smith is a poet of the cast and the lure, and although her poems singe the fingers, we are glad to be caught.”

“If one of the aims of poetry is to condense our vast, contradictory, and beautiful world into the briefest of songs, River Skin stands as a testament to its possibility. In these vibrant poems of landscape, family, and identity, Smith exhibits a true talent for imbuing natural, experiential detail with authenticity, layered meanings, and lyricism. But River Skin is so much more than that; it’s also brimming with powerful meditations grounded in the familiar that eventually open us up to something far greater. It takes risks by exploring sincere, often harsh realities through rich, accessible language. These poems are intellectually stimulating and emotionally engaging, written by someone with clear eyes and an open, curious heart that shies neither from the darkness nor the light that, together, define the human condition.”

“Darcy Smith’s River Skin examines, in exquisite language and vivid imagery, the many roles a woman may play in her life: as daughter, as sister, as wife, as mother. With each of these roles comes the challenging demands of love and the wounds we inevitably inflict on each other. “It only takes one thaw to end everything,” Smith writes, and we feel the truth of this in her daring syntax and sharp eye. Still, despite the grief of addiction, of dying parents, of a stillborn birth, these poems are “sunless prayer[s]” and “greening hymns.” They speak to the stony comfort of our own resilience, the way we can find a home amid ruins.”