Daniel Brick Poems

Squeaky wheels, squeaky wheels,
the tricycle inches forward toward
the white house with white pillars.
Squeaky wheels, squeaky wheels,
...

That autumn every time I looked
out the window I saw two leaves fall
from a maple tree in my yard.
Always two leaves fell together
...

The traffic was loud.
Car wheels slapped the pavement
like wrestlers hitting the mat.
Still I slept.
...

A lone wolf howls
into the night.
Five wolves hear his cry
and venture across the dark ground.
...

You may be surprised to learn windows
are the most patient creatures
in our universe. Always vigilant,
always ready to receive Light,
...

The light refuses to enter your
narrow room but clings like a trellis
to the southern window. It is a dim
December Thursday. You slipped from wheelchair
...

A Fantasy for Bharati

Dear Bharati, finally we meet,
in a moment between two seasons,
...

This is a poem of male roads. It starts
with an ordinary road made up of
daily traffic plus the occasional
traveler impulsively joining
...

They say we have a great king.
They say he has won every battle
he engaged, and his armies swell
with volunteers. The autumn air
...

Sarah, lovely and loving, offered
her hand, a simple hand, nothing
more. If her hand had held flowers,
or money, or food, I would smiling
...