the torch passed

the torch passed

grandma lived with red headed

uncle Fred

in a very old apartment

in a very old city

not far from the George Washington Bridge

that crossed the Hudson

with the aroma

of sunken ships

old Jersey shores

my dad's yearbooks on the shelf

keepsakes for God sakes

the smell of age

and overs

and then so many years later

a different bridge

the same aroma

deer grazing in the yard

a pond at night

the sound of age

calling to each other

under bed sheets

cries of loneliness

mumbled calls to

Jersey in the distance

a father's father from the old country

orphaned and left at Ellis Island

as the welcoming committee 

is one statue with a torch of hope

flickering in greeting'

a father's tears

a mother's passing

the old country so distant now

only photographs carefully place in an album

to hold

those people--- now just images

the world was very close once

and it was small,

but now

continents of grief

separate us

and I wish that torch still burned

to welcome back

all of those lost in the translation

of life into the language of death.

erin-cilberto

8/22/23

Reviews

[ProphetsMother]

America was built to be a melting pot and if we are not ignorant, we know that most of us came from overseas at one point. This is very important to remind ourselves of so we can better know ourselves and who we are. We were all immigrants at one point and some of our pasta got melted away in the pot I suppose you could say.. but some of the most delicious dishes, like minestrone soup, are historically made from many people added little bits they have here and there into one pot that melts it all down to something savory.. America can be a beautiful place if we choose to see it that way. Thank you for recording history. It's very important for all of us who are not native to the land.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, PM.
j.

[light and ashes]

This is just great writing.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Light,
j.

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

Jacob,

We all originated from somewhere, some place, some land, of some people, culture, or nation ... I do believe that it is intrinsically American to never forget the where of where and when we came to be land called America to meld as one people called Americans, and that flaws, wrongs, faults and all ... Excellent Poetry, my friend ...

Marve

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Marve,
j.

[Pauline]

Such a well written piece J and one that I enjoyed immenseley. Very nostalgic.

Pauline.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Pauline,
j.

[Lydia Shutter]

I am a first generation American and I can identify with a lot of what you are saying here. When the world was smaller, we were happier. I believe that. We lived near family and we saw them every Sunday...or more. Even though "the old country" is far away, it was right there in my grandparents' apartment which was, coincidentally, in an old city not far from the GW bridge. A step back in time for me with this one, Jacob. I enjoyed it. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, family....so many years ago, I remember visiting family other than my folks.
but that was a lifetime ago.
thank you, Lydi,
j.

[FGFRANKLIN]

This is fantastic my friend. I like the nostalgic atmosphere and the romantic story feel of this like a recounting of a Tennessee Williams play. It's very personal feeling and not so much one of vulnerability as one of resignation. Yet, it sings with a sadness for what is lost. Truly lovely, F.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind review, Fabian,
j.

[Maria E. Mendez]

I think when we are young our world is so small and limited but as we grow we venture out into the great unknown. But we remember that security, that sense of time and place, where we feel like we most belonged and were most loved. I like the sense of family in this. Family is so important.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and ours, very small, so especially important ...thank you, Maria,
j.

[Einstein Noodle]

wow! well said says i! my Gramma lived with my Great Uncle Frank .. i was very small when they were alive but vividly recall that old apt. ... small ... Frank's butterfly collection and watching Peter Pan ... the one with Mary Martin and my favorite .. but above all the smells of age .. old books and like you say .. photos in albums .. the torch passes through a family's story teller if there is one .. i think your poetry passes the torch, jacob .. one may have to look for it but in this one it is very clear .. thanks for reminding me of my own .. love on ya brother .. thanks for sharing!
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind words, E, and give Beau a pet for me.
j.

[Mark Hart]

You are welcome, J.

[Einstein Noodle]

i don't know who the above is .. but i mirror those sentiments .. you are most welcome .. and will add the pleasure reading is all mine! wonderful poem says i!

[Soren]

This poem seemed almost a free flowing of thought in a wistful and nostalgic way. Yes it fits the title well and we are all a piece of the chain of ancestery and life itself.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Soren,
j.

[Mark Hart]

Oh wow. The title is perfect. What a sincere and creative write.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Mark.
j.