The River will Flow (Afer Li Po)

I drink wine by the river.
I can barely see it,
and I hear it as in a dream.
Are things as they seem?
My wife is now dead.
Wind rustles the leaves
of a nearby tree.
The leaves fall slowly,
but relentlessly.
What must be, will be.
The river begins as
a quiet mountain stream.
It flows through lush
fields and gentle hills.
But in the end, it is
swallowed by the sea.
That was its true identity.

George Freek’s poetry appears in numerous Journals and Reviews. His poem “Written At Blue Lake” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. His poem “Enigmatic Variations” was also recently nominated for Best of the Net. His collection “Melancholia” is published by Red Wolf Editions.