Cold Day

Cold Day

 

 

 

her brown eyes

flickered one last time

the reflection of orange

the blue tipped killer

finality the formality

 

we all burned inside

standing outside

beside her closed coffin.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

10/19/22

Reviews

[willweb]

Could be a person, could be a month, could be a season. This poem, though very minimal is filled with many layers. All of which reach in and grab the reader. Is it really death or is it just a passing that we feel inside. Nicely done sir.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, will,
j.

[duff]

To the bone on this one Jacob. Emotional.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, duff,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

I felt both the heat and the cold with this one J. A terrible way to die. So much covered in a piece of brevity. Nothing short on the emotional pull in this write though.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Chris,
j.

[Michael]

I favour the final stanza, Inside contrast to outside and beside - nice movement of focus.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Michael,
j.

[Corset]

Hollow points or immunization? Both could kill you in the wrong hands. Very powerful J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, both could...thank you, Corset.
j.

[Perdition]

Oh, wow! Strange that I should choose this poem just from the title. Sudden and rich, final and cold, and all the king's horses and all the king's men will not... can not burn back this altering, can they? The thing that catches me here is your reflection of her life in the flickering of an eye which IS how life happens, but perhaps it was just that moment in the puzzle that fits your experience into this poem. A sad and very abrupt ending and yet somehow it reaches deeply into empathy and forces us to take this journey with you... in only a staggering few words. Thank you for sharing J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very insightful review, Perdition,
j.

[Lydia Shutter]

Such sadness and longing in this one, Jacob. There is a finality at a funeral that is difficult for some to accept. We watch as the coffin slips underground and realize we all are mortal. Orange and blue....hmmm...not sure what you mean by that unless it is a cremation. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Lydi,
j.

[Nima.Hope]

And again you remembered me of brown-eyed Mahsa Amini, the 22 year-old girl who was killed by the morality police of Iran. In just a few sentences, you gave us a vivid imagination. Nice job sir.
P.S: I would be glad if you sir comment on my latest poem "Whispers of Freedom". In Iran we have a very restricted access to the internet and I asked if I could have the opinion of poem masters such as you as soon as possible. Many thanks

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Nima...I will visit your poem.
j.

[Richard Knox]

Wow! So much expressed in eight very short lines. Well done! I can picture the mourners, sense their sadness, see the flicker from the blue and orange fire, and feel the heat from the crematorium.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Richard,
j.

[Brianna Brie]

we all burned inside
standing outside
beside her closed coffin.

I love these lines. It is a clever way to explain what is going on in the hearts and minds of the mourners. Talking about her brown eyes flickering one last time is creative as well. I was stumped by the orange and blue. All I could imagine was a serial killer dubbed the "Blue Tipped Killer," and her seeing his orange shirt before he snuffed her out.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

interesting...the Blue Tipped Killer...in a way...yes the killer in this is orange with a blue tip.
thank you, Brianna,
j.