Tyree Daye

2019 Winner in
Poetry

Tyree Daye is a poet from Youngsville, North Carolina. He is the author of two poetry collections: River Hymns, the 2017 APR/Honickman First Book Prize winner, and Cardinal, forthcoming from Copper Canyon Press in 2020. Daye is a 2017 Ruth Lilly Finalist and Cave Canem fellow. Daye’s work has been published in Prairie Schooner, The New York Times, and Nashville Review. He won the 2019 Palm Beach Poetry Festival Langston Hughes Fellowship and is the 2019 Diana and Simon Raab Writer-In-Residence and a 2019 Kate Tufts Discovery Award Finalist.

Photo Credit:
Beowulf Sheehan
Reviews & Praise

"Tyree Daye is a poet of extraordinary ability and surprise. I find new music to delight in every time I come back to this book. I encounter new ways to think about family and community, new ways to wrestle with my own landscape and legacy." —Gabrielle Calvocoressi, author of The Last Time I Saw Amelia Earhart: Poems [on River Hymns]

River Hymns is a brilliant debut of black poetry in a tradition that goes from Jean Toomer and Langston Hughes to CS Giscombe, Forrest Hamer, and Sean Hill.  Tyree Daye is a blues poet of the first order, giving voice to the people of the rural South...no...the families of the... Actually, Tyree Daye wants to make immortal all of the people of the past who made a way for his existence, and these poems bring them and the land they called home back to life.  The vernacular here is one of a man speaking out loud to his own soul.” —Jericho Brown, author of Please: Poems

“Tyree Daye’s River Hymns is made of timely tropes that let us in on the mystery and folk wisdom of everyday life. These poems of longing and wonderment are woven out of a lyricism that can only exist when clarity of observation and imagination converge as one-of-a-kind songs within everyday things.” —Yusef Komunyakaa, author of Neon Vernacular: New and Selected Poems

From the Selection Committee

The poems of Tyree Daye are haunted and haunting; they make new a familiar human loss and longing. Daye’s pictures of a river life are strung together in language that is clear, lucid, unexpected, and often unforgettable:  image-making of the highest order. His phrasing is as fluid as water—his lines course powerfully down the page and glimmer with the pauses and swerves of the spoken word. The faces and histories around the kitchen table are reconfigured into gossip, tall tales, and, finally, into mythology.