It was a matter of religion for him.
Breathing meant he had to inhale
the world, draw life
from spirits riding on the air
—lies, blasphemy,
hard drinking.
My mother said he survived
because of his faith, his steady
countenance. But we always
wondered if, secretly at night,
he drew close to her and stole
the breath from her lips.
Ronald Geigle is a writer living in Virginia. His poems have appeared in BoomerLit Magazine,The Delta Poetry Review, and other journals. He is the author of The Woods, a novel set in the Pacific Northwest during the waning years of the Great Depression. Geigle is a founding member of the Conscious Writers Collective. ronaldgeigle.com