George Freek

The Past is Always With Us
 
The night is like frosted glass.
I gaze at the moon,
as wind rustles dead leaves
in snow-covered grass.
In this cold world
I’m lost in memories
of friends who are gone,
of joys that couldn’t last.
Alone, the stars surround me
like a cocoon,
spun by the mutilated moon,
those stars which replace the sun
with their dim light,
as they’re extinguished
one by one.
 

 
The Remains
 
Summer’s flowers are gone.
All that’s left are
the decaying remains.
The trees have been bare
for months. I don’t remember
when leaves were there.
In my garden, a hammock,
creaks in a bitter wind,
as winter approaches in clumsy boots.
A lone crow sits in a tree.
I yell at him. He ignores me.
I speak to my elderly cat.
I speak to the moon and stars.
As is their way,
They have nothing to say.
I try to recall the aroma of roses.
It smells sweet,
but I can’t make it stay.

 

George Freek's poem "Enigmatic Variations" was recently nominated for Best of the Net. His poem "Night Thoughts" was also nominated for a Pushcart Prize.