ENNUI AT WONDER LAKE
Clouds like pillows
smother the moonlight,
in a false embrace.
Waves beat the shore,
like clenched fists
beating on a door
that refuses to open.
My thoughts are banal,
but I don’t feel capable
of anything more.
The stars are like fireworks,
as the cosmos
passes over my head
like an amazing circus.
But I’ve seen it all before.
AT DUSK NEAR THE LAKE
The years are piling up
like snow on a roof,
but my hair gets thinner.
The moon seems trapped
like an insect
in the branches of a tree.
A dove beckons
to his mate.
But I don’t think
She wanted to wait. Birds
like human can be fickle.
The dove abandons his tree,
and life moves on,
but he leaves his
message for me.
The woods are deep
and I’m still free.
What will be, will be.
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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