The Ear and the Eye
By George Freek
The sun is trapped like a fly
in a web of branches,
as huge clouds
assemble over my head
like an invading army.
They give warning
by a rifle shot of thunder
of what’s to come.
Nature says death
is the mother of beauty.
Perhaps that’s so,
but its anticipation
is an instinct, not a duty.
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.
