George Freek: Three Poems

Thoughts on a Dreary Night (After Tu Fu)

How far is it to the nearest star?
The moon blocks such
improbable calculations.
Anyway, I’ll never go there.
And the universe disturbs
my quixotic ruminations.
I return my attention
to things nearby:
a dry rose petal,
a wet hat in a field of grass,
the wing of a butterfly.
I hear a bird in a tree.
I look for it to no avail.
Was it an illusion?
Life is not what we
thought it was, or
we hoped it would be,
and death becomes
a necessary intrusion.


I Sometimes Ask Pointless Questions (After Tu Fu)

Clouds stretch from the sky
to the lake, as if they could
swallow it. Gulls circle,
then drift away, to disappear.
A chill is in the air.
Another summer has gone.
I look in a mirror. Suddenly
I look old. It seems all wrong.
I watch a woman walk
through falling leaves.
She looks at a darkening sky.
Is she thinking of the clouds,
or the heavens beyond?
Whichever it is,
her attention is on the sky,
and in a second
she’s swiftly passed me by.


Enigmatic Variations (After Mei Yao Chen)

This night is bitter.
I sit alone in my room.
I rub my heavy eyelids.
I turn the pages of a book,
and try to read,
but quit after a brief look.
As the hours slowly pass,
moonlight drifts in
my opened window,
collecting as dust would
on an hourglass.
When I sleep,
I dream of my youth,
what I hoped to achieve,
but never began.
At least my wife is dead.
Her dreams are done.
She had faith in me.
She didn’t live to see
what I’ve now become.

George Freek‘s poetry has appeared in numerous poetry journals and Reviews. His poem “Written At Blue Lake” was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

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