Sandra Meek is a native of El Paso, TX. She was raised in Ft Collins, CO, and received her BA and MFA from Colorado State University, and her PhD from the University of Denver. For two years she served as a Peace Corps volunteer in Botswana. In 2003, she received the Peace Corps Writers Award in Poetry for her first book Nomadic Foundations. Her second book Burn appeared in 2005. Widely published in literary journals, Sandra Meek is currently an associate professor at Berry College in Mt. Berry, GA.

Other poems by Sandra Meek in Verse Daily:
November 10, 2007:   "Columba livia" " The year we understood city by feral, honeysuckle..."
July 16, 2005:   "Tillandsia Usneoides" "You could walk under it your whole life..."
August 16, 2002:  "Foundations for Fire" "In this photo, I send you light..."

Books by Sandra Meek:

Other poems on the web by Sandra Meek:
"Chronographia"
Three poems
"Balancing Acts"
Three poems
"Wreck"

About Biogeography:

"By the map of a turtle’s neck, the staircase of a voice, the music of a small dog’s nails, Sandra Meek reads the world anew, reminding us of its endlessly dynamic and divine substance. The immersion of self, the selfhood of all living things, into the history of landscape is the creative act that Meek performs here, an act often accompanied by the hard cold fact of human atrocity. “Listen: do you hear the teeth/approaching, do you trust the light, how it eats equally into/shadow and green? Have you noticed? The body without air goes blue/letting in the sky.” (“Courantijn River”) That these poems assume metaphor rather than fret to develop it gives them a deeply evolved quality—Meek achieves in two lines what a poem of old might need thirty for, and she does so with an effortlessness that smacks of magic."
—Larissa Szporluk

"Biogeography speaks to the transience of things we hope will always be with us, including ourselves. Meek touches the awful disappearance of life and its vital howling against absence. This is a remarkably tender and beautifully wise book, without blame, without sentimentalism."
—Afaa Michael Weaver