THE MOON ONLY RISES (After MEI YAO CHEN)

Night unfolds like a skein

of silk. But its beauty

brings me no relief.

The stars are so far away,

they can give no

warmth or compassion.

The moon feels no grief.

I understand death

when we are old and lame,

but when the young die,

there is only God to blame.

My wife was only forty.

I stare at the distant stars.

But what good is it

to curse the empty air,

when no one is there?

 


George Freek Pic

George Freek is a poet/playwright living in Belvidehas recepeared in ‘Trade West Review’; ‘The

Cape Rock; ‘Limestone Journal’ ‘Sentinel Poetry Quarterly’; and ‘The Rockhurst Review’. His

plays are published by Playscripts, Inc.; Lazy Bee Scripts; and Off The Wall Plays.