The flickering lights of life unfold .

COLD MOUNTAIN BY JAY RUBIN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 19

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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

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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…