Three Poems
Andrew Brenza
catbird/everything you see
i speak your scars
like i speak of trees
like trees speak a name
the one we live in
drupelet of sorrow
that is you wet with song
horizon/no horizon
there is no horizon we live in
the horizon it is our skin pretending time is something
sensing wind slants sunlight
a part/apart
this is not the shape of flame a body means
never to be alone darkness rustles rut-less soft-
petalled a conscious hum reflection’s electric
company a part/apart at the same time
somehow fields of blank flowers it’s unspeakable name
Andrew Brenza is the author of the chapbooks 21 Skies (Shirt Pocket Press, 2015), And Then (Grey Book Press, 2016) and 8 Skies (forthcoming from Beard of Bees Press). His first full-length collection, Gossamer Lid, was recently published by Trembling Pillow Press. Most days, he works as the director of a small public library in southern New Jersey.
