i think they served fish that day

i think they served fish that day

i met him at his last dinner table

the roses across the room

drew his attention

what little he had left,

his gaze set upon the flowers

mine wandered with his

thinking what he might be thinking

counting how many wishes he had left

imagining he still knew me as he once did

running pastures,

reeling in striped bass

under fluorescent light of Kentucky nights

sifting through his plate

with waning hunger

and circumspect tongue

the same one he scolded me with

when i was just learning life

he cornered a carrot

they battled

i smiled, 

the roses started to wither

i felt the thorns dig into my projections

and his dreams match the roses

gardens hold a certain fascination

but gardeners can only tend them for so long

then others come

and generations find new menus 

with higher prices,

less choices

and harder to pronounce entrees

the simple times became silent

his voice tempered

but still vibrant in my memory

with each relished repast

and each new rose

that catches my attention

when a wish blooms

with his name on it.

erin-cilberto

11/18/17

Reviews

[emmajoy]

A chain of memories about someone loved through what seems be a long life. How the space about that person showed energy and example til it began to fade to mere echoes. Even then and since, everything shared remains as reminders of what matters A metaphorical serving of a life's fine dining.. Perhaps?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful words, em.

j.

[emmajoy]

Never know if what i see is wha'is there. One can easily misinterpret because the mind detours from yours.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

em,
you know my philosophy with poetry...what the reader sees is what is there.

[emmajoy]

I stand reminded, j.

[Gee]

Tis extremely sad. A father, son, Alzheimer s ???
Have written a wee offering myself on the back of reading this.
Was this about your father Jacob ??
Hope you are well.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Gee.
j.

[Gee]

My pleasure. By the way Jacob that it a great title....

[andrew mitchell]

Nice write Jacob, I felt this was a father son scenario the father once being a gardener but now in a nursing home suffering dementia and the son reflecting on past fond memories.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, andrew.

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

A man can be tender in glorious moments of memory. I am moved in teardrops watering the roses.

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Al.
j.

[Ted Kniffen]

This one hits home, j. For me it's my mother soon to be 93 and fighting dementia. A losing battle I'm afraid. Some days are better than others but none are really good. You've produced a brilliant piece that describes what any child dreads.
Ted

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Ted....yes, he was so strong...always the one who took care of all of us...i appreciate your words and sharing your situation with your mother...hard to see that happen...i would rather go before i get where people have to take care of me.

j.

[Ted Kniffen]

I agree. Better to burn out than fade away.

[J. J. Nightingale]

Wish a mind could only remember the Good Times
Memories fade, someone said
but what do they know, of me..?
I never saw my father..so no memories
Finally I met my Mother
so only Good Memories..

Touches deep..heartful/sad/hurtful/life

Jazzy

[jacob erin-cilberto]

glad you have the good memories of your mother, and thank you for your words of understanding, Jazzy--

j.

[J. J. Nightingale]

Thanks...and You r welcome....................J.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Reads as if a son losing a father, the reflective, regretful tone and mix of respect and subservience feels like a warm current in a cold river.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like that.."a warm current in a cold river"--

thank you for your words, John...much appreciated.

j.