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published November 2009

David Brennan's work has appeared and is forthcoming in Action Yes, Pank, H_NGM_N, Parthenon West Review, Beeswax and elsewhere. His first book of poetry, The White Visitation, is forthcoming from BlazeVOX books. He lives and teaches in Virginia.

Meta Four

by

wordsworth

A woman’s breast
Awaiting its unborn’s warm milk

bren­nan

Noon’s grass
Wanting night’s wet

coleridge

The moon, new

rand

Trout in too shal­low a stream
Writhing the sound of rain­fall in mud

wordsworth

Torch in the high hand of diver
At cliff’s edge, car­ing not for what dent
It bends into the dark­ness
But for the fall, the relent­less
Exhilaration of extinguishing

bren­nan

A tea ket­tle gath­er­ing
Into itself those clouds
That know how to whistle

coleridge

The lover’s hair pinned
Up on the fine
Skull when let down
Blankets her back
Like fra­grant fall
Leaf