George Freek
As The River Turns To Ice
The summer's hollyhocks
have turned to rust.
A sparrow searches a maple
for a grub. He has no luck.
When he dies, he'll be lost
to the nothingness of eternity,
the same as me.
Beneath the river's ice
the river still flows
to the encompassing sea,
as our lives continue to flow,
from one day to the next,
wandering like microbes,
through our blood streams,
until it is still.
Time is an intangible,
but it can also kill.
Bio
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. Thank you for giving my poems consideration.