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A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto


closing shop

 

 

 

a blue jay sang off key

and i breathed a last breath

the oaks above squandered tears

and the real rain became a dried gulch of apathy

 

squirrels celebrated

unbeknownst to what they were cheering

as acorns dropped from God's sky

at least that was the last sound that reached my ears

 

and then a few blades of grass turned brown

a cold wind choked the last of summer's warmth

the shades of life were drawn

and soon an empty house was covered in white prayer.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

9/10/19

© 2019 jacob erin-cilberto


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Reviews

This draws me into changing of the season, which some dread the demise of summer. Then there are those that welcome change and the emotional journey. Beautifully written.

Posted 1 Day Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Day Ago

thank you for your kind review, Eugi,
j.
Eugi

1 Day Ago

You're welcome.
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DAH
This "Ode To The Changing Season" brings up a range of fine poetic lines that leads the reader into a longing for both the season leaving and the one coming in: " then a few blades of grass turned brown // a cold wind choked the last of summer's warmth.

Bravo, jacob!
DAH

Posted 2 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Days Ago

thank you for your kind words DAH,
j.
DAH

2 Days Ago

My pleasure!
Sounds like you are bringing down the shutters with the thought of oncoming harshness, which is an ideal cover for turning the key to closed in memoriam to sharing any more emotion that backfires on us time and again, locking ourselves away from pain that is always on our mind anyway.
Okay, I'm deflecting your words on to my thoughts, but in my defence, the shutters are rusted in place and I mislaid the key years ago.
A covering of white always brings hope, that there will be a new scene when melted. I'll let you know if it ever happens Jacob...but no holding breath.


Posted 2 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Days Ago

thanks for sharing how this poem and you relate to each other...appreciate your words, Lorry,
.. read more
I hope we get a nice blanket that lasts all winter. Ruby

Posted 2 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Days Ago

we might just get that this year...so they say...
thank you, Ruby,
j.
I wish I have this kind of motivation to continue writing. This is good Sir Jacob :)

Posted 2 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Days Ago

thank you, Tina,
j.
This sounds like a good bye to summer.

Where I grew up, the sidewalks were rolled up on Labor Day and everything slept until Memorial Day.

Posted 3 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

2 Days Ago

thank you for your words, Lea,
j.
Lea Sheryn

2 Days Ago

You're welcome!
Some great analogies to describe the change of seasons. Especially that last line was brilliant.

Posted 3 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Days Ago

thank you for your kind words, Dale,
j.
What a sad but beautiful picture. The old man had taken a rest and sat down, leaning against the old oak tree. It was a late fall day. A single blue jay sang above him, causing him to drift off to sleep, just resting. But in reality, he was dying. No pain, just resting. Acorns began falling from the tree sounding like large raindrops on the ground. It was playful squirrels running through the branches. They came down to gather and were celebrating their winter stash, not paying any attention to the old man sleeping against their tree. Maybe his body wasn't found right away and the seasons changed. Then, it began to snow while his family held his wake inside his home. He had died a peaceful death in a place he loved.

I remember when I was girl and my Dad would lay in his hammock in the back yard. The squirrels would actually crawl around on him and it amazed me that they weren't afraid of him. I soon learned why. He would pack his shirt pocket and his palms with pecans and pretend he was asleep. He also used to have a bumble bee that flew over his head the entire time it took him to cut the grass. Back and forth, back and forth, two inches above his head. All animals loved my Dad, but not as much as me!

I loved your poem. It gave me the vision of Grandfather and the oak tree in the field he loved to walk through. He passed there.

Posted 3 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Days Ago

i just love this review and your memories...up in Vermont at the farmhouse where we stayed there was.. read more
Rhayne

3 Days Ago

Thank you for such wonderful poems to read!
dear Jacob... "an empty house was covered in white prayer" ... the Winter of our life could be
as beautiful as newly fallen snow softly falling on a field of blessings. I lived in a Grove of Oak trees
and often heard Acorns falling... that would be a lovely sound to hear before I leave.... and
perhaps a songbird to sing my eulogy. truly, Pat

Posted 3 Days Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

3 Days Ago

thank you for your kind words and sharing your feelings from this, Pat,
j.

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Added on September 11, 2019
Last Updated on September 11, 2019

Author

jacob erin-cilberto
jacob erin-cilberto

Carbondale, IL



About
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at two community colleges and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. Friending works two ways. If we have had .. more..

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