Poetry


[ P O E T R Y ]

 
 
 

 

This is Not a Prison


 



Those are not bars in front of me
There are no guards or locks
There are no keys.

That is a grove of birches right there
Standing there white, no, silvery, in last night’s freeze.

But the ice shafts, running thick and tight to the trunk, 
trap the rays so hard that they flash black at me.

Hurry along. I hurry along.

 

Ronald Geigle is an East Coast writer and poet living in Arlington, Virginia. His writing has been published in The New Mexico Review and The Plum Tree Tavern literary journal. He is the author of The Woods, a novel set in the Pacific Northwest during the waning years of the Great Depression.


 
Ronald Geigle