by George Freek
I live too much in the past, but it happened so fast,
In this passing world
the illusion of the present doesn’t last. My memories are already dry as dust, blown away into the vacuum of eternity.
The stars, as distant
as the dreams of my youth, have hidden scars,
as if they’d been abused.
My lonely maple tree
stands in a freezing wind,
a stone-like symbol of grief, naked and bereft
of her once comforting leaves.
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.