by the spruce tree

by the spruce tree

 

 

smoke found its way

to the cathedral of your eyes

the brazen flame of fate

blinded you

then stole the life from you

sixteen hands carried you

 

as love set you down

to rest among the tufts

 

 

of tomorrow's awakenings.

 

 

erin-cilberto

2/3/22

Reviews

[Patricia]

Oh wow j. This hit me hard with losing so many people around me and so many sick with Covid. This is perfect and that opening line is amazing! Sixteen hand carried you, so visual! Beautiful write!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind words, Patricia,
j.

[Patricia]

You’re welcome j.

[M. J. Smith]

So hard to say goodbye. Long after their passing their ghosts haunt us.
I have paused at a roadside shrine. And sometimes I can almost hear whispers, as if a ghost still floated in that place.
Well written, Sir Poet.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, M.J.
j.

[Laz K.]

This is one of those poems that I can't grasp the meaning of fully, but I am moved by the metaphors therein.
"Cathedral of your eyes," "flame of fate" - great figures of speech.

It also brought to my mind the song that goes like, "smoke gets in your eyes..."

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate your words, Laz. K.
j.