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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