In his coffin, Roy looks
a lot like his dad,
who had eyes that
carefully observed things
as they passed him by.
His mom also had them,
and an unusual affinity
for living creatures.
Roy told me when she died
her parakeet died too.
Roy would be happy,
the birds are still here
and they’re singing.


George Freek is a poet/playwright living in Belvidere, IL.  His recent poems have been published in The Missing Slate, The Entroper, Epiphany Magazine, The Oklahoma Review, The Poydras Review, and The Empirical Review. His plays have recently been produced by The Lee Street Theatre (NC), The Gaspipe Theatre (PA), The Auburn (NY) Players Community Theatre, The Fringe of Marin Festival (CA), and The Complete Theatre (NYC).

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