By George Freek
A MATTER OF PRIORITIES (After Mei Yao Chen, 1002-1060) Things that once mattered Now matter to me less than a bowl of rice. Stars like insects spin across the sky, but do they even exist? Sparrows hop from branch to branch with a purpose. They don’t care if the stars are there. They’re looking for something to eat. In a rain-soaked street, people rush by, terribly concerned with the mud on their feet.
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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