Daniel Brick October Poems

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

This is the poem that should
not be. It's too late for poetry:
it's time for sleep, and precious
little time is left of this night
...

The whole year falls toward
Autumn... Summer has barely
begun when green leaves transfixed
in a sunshaft remind us of Autumn's
...