Evanescent Murmurings

By George Freek

POEM AFTER OU YANG HSIU

In my younger days,  
I was arrogant, thinking
I was wise. I had friends,
who reassured me.
Now they’re dead,
and I’m sixty-five.
I took to wine. 
It helped, but 
life moves by so fast,
nothing lasts. Alone,
I watch the river
and its eternal flow.
I sip a cup of tea,
listening to clamouring geese.
They make me smile.
I think, perhaps,
they’re laughing at me.

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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