The flickering lights of life unfold .
COLD MOUNTAIN BY JAY RUBIN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 19
+
Might’ve been rainy, might’ve been cold
The flickering lights of life unfold
A soldier dies a sad cliché
Redhead arms of the woman he loves
His raspy winter’s voice on ice
I marry you, I marry you
And we, too, married soon
Our own winter a hundred months away
My camera turned its lens on you
Green eyes wet, velvet mascara
In quiet calm, as credits roll
The silent crowd unseats the hall
Soldiers on a slow march home
Bugles heavy, half salutes
I could not speak of horrors then
The wars we’d not yet waged
And you, beside me, wounded, too
Stumbling through the evening air
Our raining on each other’s neck
A storm inside our compact car
Our own first shot still years away
Our battle lines, our judgment day
That was the deepest we ever got
The movie’s outdoor parking lot
+
JAY RUBIN
Before getting married, my fiancé and I went to a screening of Cold Mountain. After the movie we could hardly speak; we could only sob. At the time, I knew suc…