These clouds are from the arctic.
They unnerve me
with apocalyptic unravelings.
I don’t grasp such arcane wisdom.
Night hangs from the branches
in desultory sobriety.
Is it a judgment on my morals
or my cardiovascular system?

Time moves like a mudslide.
It carries me with it,
as stars enact their ceremonies
like bats in a cave—
shadows in wandering moonlight,
metamorphing into fossils
in their inscrutable way
from love or fear or dismay.
Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Share on Reddit
Pin It

About George Freek

1 0
I can't make it interesting if there's nothing interesting there. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the most interesting thing in my life is the fact that I write poetry and plays (and often get the poetry published and the plays produced.)
There are no comments yet...

Graphic of the Week

Thursday, October 20th, 2016

Most Popular Story today

Art History:

Art History—the West Cave wall:  Man, bear, antelope, sunrise Inscribed clay tablet:  Man covered in thick body hair and perhaps a boat (fragmentary) ...
Art History
by Anthony Spaeth