Ron Riekki

“they were insisting on owning / the world, the lake bathed in / leaves, the leaves falling on top / of leaves, so many that my little / brother would hide…” Ron Riekki writes on youth in the woods.

“The wind would only whisper, the woods making soft sounds behind us, everything so quiet, as if the trees knew they were going to be books one day, and this was a library…” Ron Riekki writes on “holy silence.”