old white magic

old white magic

 

 

i fell from the tree

my time was thinning

my foliage skimming

through another autumn

love turns golden before exiting

 

i fell from the tree 

and winter fell on top of me.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

3/18/19

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

love this jacob i really do

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Julie,
j.

[R.E. Ray]

Ah, seems like my seasonal depression! From the covered tree peak I fall every year to rocky, brown roots. Seems relationships often have the same four seasons, especially winter. Two dimensions here to consider.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your insightful review, R.E.
j.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Classic Jacob... such witty metaphors.
There is beauty even in love that ends.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Dale,
j,

[john l smith]

Got a chuckle from this
Just what winter does, especially this year

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, john,
j.

[andrew mitchell]

When you are at the other end of the telescope, it becomes a season by season proposition. I suppose getting old we don’t rejuvenate like the seasons but we do notice the changes!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, we do...thank you, andrew,
j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I guess this is another with two faces. First the tale of winter's departure and snow melts the other someone who feels even with winter's demise that they are still 'fallen'. As always Jacob, words sown into tapestries of poetry.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, John,
j.

[redzone]

and this is exactly why I never climb trees anymore.... nope, when that winter falls, I want to be in my bed, under the covers all warm and cozy.... yep, no more trees for me... and about that 'thinning folliage', Jacob are you telling us you are balding??? somehow I can not vision this, but then I read your metaphors as getting on in life, into that "golden love" time... you do know of course us poets never grow old, nope we never go gently into the night... we live forever... that's my plan anyway...

hope I did not tread on your poem too much Jacob, it was fun to read...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

it was fun to read your reply, Curt...always is...and thank you for it...no not balding...but thinning in years left maybe.
j.

[Einstein Noodle]

vivid image of big white pufy snow bundle plopping right on top of me .. and you know... there is a quiet cool blue that brings peace in that covering ... though i think your intent is more ominous... :} i collected vines from our surrounding forest about a week ago and had them soaking in water ... yesterday i experimented with using them to lash a hand rail going to my workshop (very rustic handrail from branches and small rough logs... has an old Ford hubcap hanging from an old wood and metal Hames) ..anyway the skin i skimmed from the vines ... so i am reminded of that too ;) love the title .. it is magick indeed when broken fallen and thinned ... the lid of winter's slumber can be a very good thing says i!
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

your reply is better than the poem...thanks so much for sharing that story...an old Ford hubcap....i bet that handrail is quite cool
thanks for your words, E.
j.

[Einstein Noodle]

;) the insurance company made me put it up .. its pretty "rustic" and actually was surprised they accepted it :)

[Corset]

"my time was thinning" like the foliage on a tree to be buried by the blanket of white magic, and snow can be like that, a magical drift.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your visit and words, Corset.
always enjoy seeing you on my page.
j.

[Corset]

same, Jacob :D