Twilight Comes Too Soon by George Freek

Twilight Comes Too Soon

By George Freek

I’m unable to see the sun. Rain becomes intense. Shadows hold the branches like flutes, and leaves sway to the sound, as unstable as parachutes, finally falling to uneven ground. In a few weeks winter will arrive, dropping snow like bullets from a leaden sky. It’s difficult to survive. Life is a constant storm. A month ago my wife died. I wonder why I was born. But whom can I ask? I only mourn.