FULL CIRCLE (After Tu Fu) George Freek Night encloses the pines and chokes the moonlight. Nothing stares at me, and won’t pass from my sight. It is the dead of winter. The pines bend in the wind. I hear them groan. The night seems to last forever. The moon is a razor, made of chiseled stone. A dog howls in the dark, unable to find a bone. If anyone dies tonight, he will die alone. George Freek is a playwright/poet living in Belvidere, IL. His poetry has recently appeared in ‘One-Trick Pony’; ‘Off Course Literary Journal’; ‘Limestone’; ‘The Rockhurst Review’; ‘The Lake’; and ‘Door Is A Jar’. His plays are published by Playscripts, Inc.; Lazy Bee Scripts’ and Off The Wall Plays.