the first day of the last

the first day of the last

 

 

it's all too real,

November chides

the wind chills, 

each gust

seeks to deride

 

alternative lives

inclement sorrow

abides

within hearts of bare trees

 

the reflection in halcyon blue

insipid days so stealthily reside

 

clutching one another's warmth unseen

felt in diminishing dream.

 

 

erin-cilberto

11/1/2020

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

and the sap runs to ground :( open for interpretation ... winter slumbers or winter kills seemingly .. our jaded wretched hearts lie cold ..encased in freeze dried wood .. brittle comes to mind ... i am inspired by you poem jacob .. be well and stay well my friend!
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, E.
j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

The winter of our lives does cause us to reflect and yearn for warmer, more certain times. The spectre of those bare trees, stripped of colour leaves us hopeless. And yet we recall times when things were indeed much more happy and satisfying. You certainly like to make us think Jacob and offer us crumbs to follow lol!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, John,
j.

[AJNJ]

I wish life was just spring and summer and halcyon blue skies...So many of our days are insipid and yearning warmth...And all the while the dream goes on diminishing as a powder puff cloud till we are left clutching but wisps...Loved this poem for its remarkable imagery of winter, of the hearts and of the earth...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, AJNJ,
j.