Daniel Brick Poems

When we named each other,
language played its essential role:
to identify the beloved (Oh, what splendor!) ,
and then fall into a protective silence.
...

Moon-hunter, soft-feathered flyer!
Your night spell calls me
into its cool radiance.
...

A shadow detached itself from
a tall tree, and winged passed me
in a zig-zag flight...
I recall reading Leonardo bought
...

Lucent light
envelops
our breathing planet
...

Sitting in a cushioned chair in his
living room, absurdly comfortable,
while he reads Georg Trakl's late poems,
the old man, himself a poet,
...

We had kept all our promises, some
as old as the child dancing
between us on our walk, others as fresh
as the dew still clinging to the grass,
...

As the sun begins its descent
into night, its slanted rays
illuminate with special brightness
parts of a landscape already shrouded
...

Bring your silver flute
to the crossroads
where the living haunt the dead,
Jazz Orpheus, and play a dozen riffs
...

People ask me, Now you're retired
from government service, will you
leave Port Trakl for some mainland city?
I am puzzled by this question. Do they
...

I walk through SALEM HILLS
following the twists and turns,
the looping and circling
of its many paths past oak trees,
...