WINTER AND THE RIVER

Staring at the moon

as it climbs the sky,

the aroma of apple blossoms

suddenly comes to my mind,

but as snow falls on the trees,

and starlings huddle

on barren branches

like homeless souls

searching for scraps to eat,

spring seems far away.

The stars look down

with neither discomfort

nor sympathy,

and the friends I had,

I now rarely see.

The end of life is bitter.

The river still flows,

but it turns to ice in the winter.

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George Freek's poem "Enigmatic Variations" was recently nominated for Best of the Net. His poem "Night Thoughts" was also nominated for a Pushcart Prize.