New Poetry by Ronald Geigle

Cabin

I.

I built here,

against the river,

when the channel

sent the spring melt

hard along the far shore,

watched the wild white water from here,

but storms last spring,

drought summer, then heavy snowfall

—the raging waters aim anew.

II.

Fieldstone patio,

once smooth,

now ragged from ice and sun,

so I crowbar and heave against

the brutes,

drop sand in the holes, 

sweep with fine gravel,

how many years before they’re

uneven again?

III.

Once—fly-fishing,

rock-climbing—

but now, here’s my list:

chase out winter mice,

haul ashes to the pile,

pull alder armchair onto porch,

drink beer in the morning sometimes.

- © Ronald Geigle 2021

Ronald Geigle is a 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 2014 novel The Woods, set in the Pacific Northwest during the waning years of the Great Depression.