Winter at Moon Lake
It is December at the lake.
Icy waves batter the shore.
A gull glides gently in the air,
as if he could stay there.
The world is still a mystery,
at least it is to me.
Stars what do you know?
You mock me from far away,
while savants in purple robes
look for unlikely answers
in the dregs of a cup of tea.
An Early Death
After last night’s frost,
the autumn leaves are falling.
The sky is bitterly cold.
Two months ago, my wife
was alive. In the middle
of the night, she died.
I feel like a sign
disintegrating
by the side of the road.
Before winter arrives,
squirrels scurry
for the few remaining nuts.
Clad in fading gray,
they still think
life is gay.
It only seems that way.
The Moon Rises in Solitude
Spring has arrived.
The flowers rise,
boisterous with life,
a chorus singing hymns,
as an old woman
walks the road angrily,
as if pondering the nature of sin.
Her hat blows off in the wind.
I know everything must die,
but like that angry woman,
when I lie in my grave,
I’ll still wonder why.
George Freek's poem "Enigmatic Variations" is currently nominated for Best of the Net. His poem "Night Thoughts" is also nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
It is December at the lake.
Icy waves batter the shore.
A gull glides gently in the air,
as if he could stay there.
The world is still a mystery,
at least it is to me.
Stars what do you know?
You mock me from far away,
while savants in purple robes
look for unlikely answers
in the dregs of a cup of tea.
An Early Death
After last night’s frost,
the autumn leaves are falling.
The sky is bitterly cold.
Two months ago, my wife
was alive. In the middle
of the night, she died.
I feel like a sign
disintegrating
by the side of the road.
Before winter arrives,
squirrels scurry
for the few remaining nuts.
Clad in fading gray,
they still think
life is gay.
It only seems that way.
The Moon Rises in Solitude
Spring has arrived.
The flowers rise,
boisterous with life,
a chorus singing hymns,
as an old woman
walks the road angrily,
as if pondering the nature of sin.
Her hat blows off in the wind.
I know everything must die,
but like that angry woman,
when I lie in my grave,
I’ll still wonder why.
George Freek's poem "Enigmatic Variations" is currently nominated for Best of the Net. His poem "Night Thoughts" is also nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
