still life that is still life in the eyes of a child

still life that is still life in the eyes of a child

A Poem by jacob erin-cilberto

still life that is still life in the eyes of a child

 

 

thumbnail sketch

barn swallows circling

bales of hay

a bed for ragged kittens

the paint peeling

red to rust to gray

 

to memories

of Vermont sixty years

the stanchions now tattered wood

an excited boy

watching as the cows took their place

at the table

 

served their milk

in pasteurized dream

just the other side of the fence

blackberries lingered

waiting for the pail

soon to become jam

 

restless hammock

a storm's coming

afternoon nap just off the horizon

 

that old Plymouth

knew the way

every year, every summer

every illogical moment

that made perfect sense to a seven-year old

who barely noticed that barn losing color.

 

 

erin-cilberto

3/7/23

© 2023 jacob erin-cilberto


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wu
Hello Jacob,
I enjoyed your invite down Memory Lane.
The first line and title has the all depth of the words that follow within itself!
Is it just me or was I hearing Julie Andrews voice in the first few lines. ;)
Thanks for the share.
Take care.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

My parents saw her in MY Fair Lady back in 1958 on Broadway....thank you for your kind review,
read more
One can sometimes forget how perspective can change our perception of the very same image..
As a kid, waiting for those few special days, and then soldiering through the oppressing boredom of math class waiting for the bell.. Yes, time seemed to flow so slowly..
And yet, nowadays, I blink and a year has gone by..

You've captured this well.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

me too...time goes so fast now. Thank you, Dennis.
j.
Dennis Wolf

1 Year Ago

Sure thing.
Jacob,

A powerful write that does, indeed, sweep one back into that time of childhood and growing up ever so quickly slowly in time that seemed to stand still ...

Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn de Graham

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

thank you for your kind review, Marvin,
j.
I loved the poetry Jacob. Here at the Michigan State fair. You can buy the true fresh milk. It is so good. No chemical. I miss the simple days. Here in Michigan. The small towns do good. Make their festivals seem old style. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

we both miss the simple days, Coyote....we sure do.
thanks for the visit,
j.
Coyote Poetry

1 Year Ago

You are right Jacob and you are welcome.
Well I was sitting in the house reading this on my cell phone. Next thing I know I had to move outside to feel the breeze blowing so I can read this again and picture all that your words have painted. I felt like I was there seeing what you were describing. Very good imagery in your words. Nice write. Made me miss home. Great job!

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

Thank you, Babbette, appreciate your kind review.
j.
what a beautiful, sprawling landscape of a poem. it gives me a strange comfort to remember that the barn doors were fading then the same as now, and that innocence was possible then. this poem reminds me to look for the bright spots and the moments of fun in a world that is becoming decidedly unfun. if we could be kids once, we can be again.

in the wise words of aurora, "i would rather see the world through the eyes of a child."

this is a special piece, jacob. thank you

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

innocence fades and we cannot repaint it...only remember it as it was.
thank you, Earthrise,<.. read more
This is a wall-size canvas, jacob.. a visual written in your very own way. Details of a mix of different sized this and that memories of an industrious rural playground complete with, ' ..an excited boy - watching as the cows took their place - at the table - served their milk - in pasteurized dream - just the other side of the fence - blackberries lingered - waiting for the pail - soon to become jam.. Smiling here, familiar thoughts.. but not a Plymouth in sight! That all- seeing even-year old still lives in the man! Such a finely written poem, sir.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

that 51 Plymouth...wow, yes, but it made it where it needed to go.
thank you for your kind re.. read more
emmajoygreen

1 Year Ago

MY PLEASURE AS EVER

CANT DO ANYTHING RE FONE ETC SORRY JACOB
Those red barns were always postcard perfect pics. A kid’s paradise for exploration. Great to visit but it’s a hard life on the farm. When I was a kid I loved chasing chickens on my uncle’s farm, they never laid too many eggs that week. Lol.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

love those red barns...even when the color fades.
thank you, andrew,
j.
I loved this friendly foray into pastoral poetry. It's quite the exception from your customary offering and it was a remarkable and beautiful variation of your singular talent. It's delicious in description and sweet as cream on the whiskers of a kitten. Very nicely done! I enjoyed.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

thank you for your kind review, Fabian,
j.
Sounds like a place I'd have loved and enjoyed. Wish I was one of those ragged kittens, chasing the cows, prowling on the fence. Amazing childhood you had.

Posted 1 Year Ago


jacob erin-cilberto

1 Year Ago

you would have loved it, I am sure....everyone who was up there with us has such fond memories.
read more

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Added on March 10, 2023
Last Updated on March 10, 2023

Author

jacob erin-cilberto
jacob erin-cilberto

Carbondale, IL



About
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..

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