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Poetry

Poetry by George Freek

POEM WRITTEN IN DECEMBER 
(Inspired by Du Fu, Tang Dynasty Poet)

I part my curtains and stare
at a blood red moon.
Beyond the moon
stars are dying.
The sky is a lonely grave.

Clouds huddle together.
Do they speak of bad weather?
The blue grass at the
river’s edge is no more.
It will soon snow.

I have almost reached sixty.
What can be said about
an old man, looking
out his window,
simply watching for snow?

George Freek‘s poetry has recently appeared in The Ottawa Arts Review, Acumen, The Lake, The Whimsical Poet, Triggerfish and Torrid Literature.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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