that kid

that kid

 

many years ago

I caught a leaf

in my Bronx fingers

didn't see any trees around

just apartment buildings

trying to reach the autumn sun

 

concrete musings

taxis screaming

across blocks of angry people

 

and I wondered what it was

as it crumbled in my

curious hand.

 

 

erin-cilberto

9/17/24

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

So sad that a child should not know what a crumbling leaf was. Speaks to me of concrete cities. I was brought up in a city, but we did have a park within the vicinity. I will never forget the fascination of discovering white bindweed trumpets. Just a weed, but to me a wonder. A sensitive child, you were J. Doesn’t surprise me in the least. A relatable poem.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind comments, Chris,
j.

[redzone]

Somewhere in the Bronx, a tree lived among the crowded tenement buildings. Perhaps it was like that Tree of Heaven written as metaphor in Betty Smith's book, "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn", a tree existing in spite of the odds against it. And perhaps also as metaphor, this leaf spurred the curiosity of a young boy on a journey of discovery. A journey that led to the poet, discovering the use of words in a world where they have lost their meaning. Curiosity, at any age, but especially in our youth, can find the nourishment for such a tree. And too, perhaps its leaves find more small boys' hands amongst those tall tenement buildings. And the story continues.

What a wonderful poem Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind review, Curt,
j.

[Soren]

I love how it gives a thought to ponder where this leaf came from. To me it is obvious it is a leaf of paper where you write your poetry but may it never crumble Jacob

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Interesting ....thank you, Soren,
j.

[Sami Khalil]

The kid is still alive in the poet's mind; everything that shaped him growing up is conjured up to little details even the scarcity of trees.
Wow!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate these words, Sami,
j.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome sir Jacob

[andrew mitchell]

You depict the Bronx so well J. Hard to believe trees were scarce, sad really. As a kid we grew up with paddocks full of insects, butterflies, lizards. A great way to grow up we also use to sit on a piece of cardboard and slid down slopes of wet grass in winter. They were the days, all covered by urban spread now.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, not much nature there...just a concrete jungle.
thanks, andrew,
j.

[John the Baptist]

A brief piece of memoir here. When we are very young, we think our neighborhoods are the world. Things we regard as commonplace in our adult years seem magical to the child self. The lad here, used to a totally urban environment, muses over this strange thing called a leaf.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I sure did, John...the trees were scarce.
Thank you,
j.