Not Far Enough Poem by Brian Rihlmann

So I flee the city
into the forest nearby,
but find myself
cornered there too.

Faces through the trees
and strangers' "hellos"
as we step aside
on the narrow path
like standing in
a packed subway car,
their breath
hissing in my ear,
hot on my neck.

A pair of eyes
like a panel of judges
glaring from the bench,
bribed by my accusers
who I never see,
nor are my crimes
ever read aloud.

Their smiles flash
like gavels under a jaundiced sun
that seeps in every crack.

The whole world
a mirror's reflection
of a squirrel-in-the-road mind.