Dancing Angels Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Dancing angels- Don’t you stop and look
At my scars:
Why the cars drive and drive beneath you:
Don’t you stop:
You are the heavens dancing for
Drunken sailors:
You know who you are- you are the housewives
Who stop to bend down to give
Kisses to the lips of lucky goldfish in the
Canal:
Don’t you stop now- they know they are lucky,
And your children are lucky as well-
And they give you paychecks,
And wishes down the well- dancing angels,
You fly above them:
You perfume the orchards of their suburbia-
And pubescent truants light off
Blue roman candles and bottle rockets
From the summits of houses for you- and you fly
Above them and their old schools:
You fly in any direction- like wishes-
You have become the things you once dreamed off-
And you go to places in France,
Where your lovers wait- and you make love to them
Like colors in a pond spilling over without reason.