Dan Rosenberg's latest book, Bassinet, was published by Carnegie Mellon University Press in 2022. His work has won the American Poetry Journal Book Prize and the Omnidawn Chapbook Contest, and recent poems have appeared in the Kenyon Review, the Seneca Review, and Poem-a-Day from the Academy of American Poets. He is an associate professor of English at Wells College, where he teaches literature, creative writing, and translation theory.

Other poems by Dan Rosenberg in Verse Daily:
September 13, 2022:   "The Stapler" "For the hole in the aorta of our nation I've got this stapler...."
February 12, 2020:   "Cause and Effect" "Because we are so thoughtless..."
March 24, 2016:   "My Beloved is Mine and I Am" "still circling the airport like a moth..."
April 28, 2015:   "What's Owed" "When I carry you..."
September 27, 2012:   "What's There" "There's seeing the girl and there's seeing her..."
June 20, 2010:   "What's There" "There's seeing the girl and there's seeing her..."

Books by Dan Rosenberg:

Other poems on the web by Dan Rosenberg:
"Order"
"Weeding"
"What Will Survive"
"Pattern Flows Tre Heavy to Me"
"Fracturing as a Kindness to Be Mined"
Three poems
"Beached"
"Origins"
"Epithalamion"
Two poems
"New Idioms"
Two poems

Dan Rosenberg's Website.

About Bassinet:

"In Bassinet, Dan Rosenberg pries open a unique portal to fatherhood, an ecstatic realm composed of grit and grace, memory and meteorology. These sonically rich poems excavate language, offering resonance in 'an imperative of shade, / the space between stars.' Elegant in form, virtuosic in movement, this work invites us into compelling imaginative spaces where wonder and wisdom collide in astonishing ways. Bassinet is a stunning new offering from a keen lyric voice."
—Kiki Petrosino

"Alone in the half-light, I rock the bassinet. Or I remember rocking it, contemplating the half-light and the light breath of the infant so near me, the natural world of swirling grass, the living and the dead, what was and what might be. But that was then. Everything's in focus now. Everything's a breath. Dan Rosenberg has made a book that sends me spinning into whatever's left of the world that isn't noise yet. Some of it's even beautifully un/disurbed —hard to believe, but it's here in the book. Alone in the half-light, the bassinet rocks. Or, as I said, I remember it rocking as I read from the book until eventually, it was darkness. Eventually, it was evening, and the infant was a teenager. The infant and everything were lighter and heavier. I was still reading, but I was holding my breath. I am still holding my breath."
—Matt Hart