At this particular point in time, Aaron H. Davis is approaching seventy years of age in as grouchy a manner as possible, as a proper curmudgeon should. He was born in New London, Connecticut and grew up in Niantic, Connecticut. At one years old, he was adopted, and he began composing poetry when he was five. At six when he went to kindergarten, the teacher questioned his mother why he had brought Moby Dick to school, and his mother explained that he was reading it.
He has never bothered to attempt to have his poetry published before in any major way. He graduated from East Lyme High School in 1971 and that was the extent of his education, less one year of technical college. He worked for the school system in East Lyme as a custodian and was finally forced by one of the teachers to write down the poems that he made up in his head, but only remembered for a week or two at a time. At the school, he was known as the “scrap paper poet” because of the scraps of paper used to jot down his poetry.
He spent as much time as possible in the woods as a child and into his adulthood, and his one regret is that he no longer can with his reduced mobility and the beginnings of Parkinson’s. His other main hobby is running original Dungeons and Dragons games as if it was still December of 1974 when he started playing.