Encounter

Encounter

fried fish, fried memory

Cole slaw eyes, creamy hue, a bit unfocused

a piece of his muffin sliding off his fork

as if it were trying to avoid his old lips

his glance is a shuffle

roses at the next table,

some strange name, but he knew it

yet, he forgot his career

and for a moment, me

suddenly the recognition,

the twinkle in his gaze

more than flowers,

an acknowledgement of life

his, mine

the time that passed between father and son

no dessert,

the clock ticking daylight away

needed to leave,

regrets found our hands clasping hard

the moon will be lit tonight

there will be a man in it,

and my dad will smile

as i catch the scent of that strange rose

from the next table.

erin-cilberto

10/28/16

Reviews

[V]

There's heaviness about it mingled with senses of nostalgia in a beautifully written way. Very picturesque, I appreciate that a lot in writings.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Vanessa...

j.

[Ted Kniffen]

A loving encounter with someone who's there deep inside and who every now and then peeks out for an all too brief moment, recognises, smiles and retreats once again. A good write, j.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Ted.

j.

[WittyWonka]

This is surely among my favorites of yours, Jacob. As a poet, you get to spend more than quality time with your father because what remains when you leave is forever etched into words you will always be able to find when the need arises. You are a photographer with words, sir.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

that is kind of you to say, Witty..."photographer with words" i think all of us poets match that description...

[Alfred Kukitz]

Hmm.......I drift into your memory, follow your dad's eyes to the next poem but my father is a no show, kind of dead, his words meaningless to my youthful bread.


Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sounds like the drifting was a bit painful...sorry, Al...

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

Dad was a huge disappointment in my teenage years. He was lost.

[Papaya]

This is very moving. I have experienced much of this with my grandfather.
He has Alzheimer's. Remembers very little. Beautiful poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, Ana...they remember little, we remember so much.

j.

[Papaya]

That's true, that's the hard part...

[Jo R.]

Poignant. With that time of memory blinking in and out, and knowing people who are either in, or are caring for those with dementia or Alzheimer's this speaks loudly. You paint a vivid picture with your words of the scene and the internal landscape of both you and your father. Thank you. Jo

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Jo.

i am in tennessee right now...and will head home in the morning...my dad is in NC at a memory unit of assisted living...in Boone...we had a really good visit yesterday...i surprised him...took Friday off from school...and drove out from Carbondale...

so glad i saw him...he is 97.

[Jo R.]

What a blessing!

[redzone]

loved this poem Jacob... the bitter sweet memories and fondness that passes between you and your father...
not sure I understand the rose images, but I am thinking that it was his wife, your mother that these roses were all about...

and wonderful and touching poem Jacob, glad you shared it with us as we get to know your father and you as well...

redzone

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i visited him yesterday in NC...only had a few hours together...but it was great...he is 97...i kind of surprised him at the assisted living place...and had lunch with him and a few of his buddies..he is in the memory care unit...the roses were on the next table and he was fixated on them.

thank you

j

[redzone]

going to go see my folks sometime in Jan after through with the knee surgery and rehab... glad you had the chance to see him Jacob...