PHOTOGRAPHY

“Poetry is not an escape from the physical world, but an arrival into it. It is a way of paying such fierce, sustained attention to what is right in front of us—the light, the rain, the winter branch—that the earth begins to speak its own quiet truth.”
— Jane Mead

Artist Statement

For me, photography and poetry are inseparable practices of attention—a habit of looking that opens what John Muir called “a doorway to a new world.” From solitary vantage points—kneeling close to woodland moss, wandering suburban garden beds, or looking out over the Atlantic at dusk—I aim to hold what is quiet, fleeting, and essential in the natural world.

In January 2020, I began photographing nature during daily walks, pairing images with lines of verse on Instagram. It started as a small meditation after loss—an effort to see the ephemeral beauty of seasons alongside the poems. When the pandemic brought isolation months later, the practice became a lifeline.

Through the lens, I watched the resilience of petals moving from tight bud to full bloom, the weight of rain and snow pressing on grasses, and mists drifting across sports fields and suburban streets, from which deer occasionally emerged like figures in a dream. Along the path came pollinators and companions of every kind: monarchs, bluet dragonflies, milkweed beetles, loud blackbirds, and the sudden spring chorus of peepers. In these encounters, the lines of poets echoed, and my own poems began to take root.

Selected from thousands of images captured on daily outings using a smartphone camera, the photographs gathered here span season, texture, color, and quiet transition.

Follow daily photo posts on Instagram: @poemrunnerink

Portfolio

Copyright Constance Clark

falling without sound
flung chaotic without rustle,
burnt brown oak leaves pile—

Constance Clark
from “Tantric” Fourth River

Once, we admired the voiceless conversations 
of garden daisies, the way they crowded 

and nestled each other or turned towards the sun 
slanted to give space to the newest blooms.

Constance Clark
from “Morning, Daisies” Fresh Words

next to this white iris
towering in fullest bloom,
open flared scalloped petals,
sheer layered queen,
impossible delicacy—
rot will seed
flow of seen
and unseen.

Constance Clark
from “Skyfall” Poetry Super Highway

how, standing there, leaves hushed and a-flutter,
death swings round a little closer.

Constance Clark
from “Autumn Light” Moonstone Press, 27th Poetry Ink Anthology

I need to relive
this rainfall inside myself
ink its pure water

Constance Clark
from “Symbiocene” Moonstone Press, Haiku Anthology
Haiku 2025 | Moonstone Arts Center

That night, from all the trees,
all the homes, bedazzled eyes of untold
mammals rose skyward.

Constance Clark
from “Under a Nearing Saturn, 2022” Fresh Words