- Late December at the Brook; I Breathe a Molecule of James Wright’s Last Breath
the brook lay silent, under the crumbling moon
pebbles become silver coins in dark water
a brilliant white marsh of snow lies between the trees, stretching into distances doubling the moon
all glacial silence but the wind, turning my pale fingers red with the story of the end of the world
skeletal maples reach out desperately, searching for an audience or a map.
Dan Hanke recently received a B.A. in English from the University of Wisconsin in Milwaukee.