Echoing Before School Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Merry-go-rounds of feral children,
Aunt Mary’s in Pieta,
Like the poster for a blockbuster movie:
Sharon is in Colorado
Bundled up, driving a stick shift:
The world is made up of icicles cross-stitching
A racetrack no one gets a good look at before
The race is over,
All the tears have melted, Sharon:
Your child is beautiful flipping through the pages of
Her naïve life:
What will it mean to you, Sharon,
Your daughter bathing in the same auburn light that
You have known for so long,
Carelessly, taking advantage of with your pale and
Milky limbs:
Your eyes sleeping burs half perceived through the
Neighbors hibiscus;
Sharon,
I couldn’t even begin to say, to speak of what dreams you’ve
Had,
How you perceive this garden, but it seems to be as if
I’ve been walking after you for so long,
Echoing, biting my lip while the footprints you leave
Are coming up
As the mailbox is raising his flag,
And the traffic is beginning to drive right through the earliest
Of passing through light,
Wimpled grasses unbending, taking away its another greenness
Signifying its wish not to be discovered:
The mist leaving the vermilion baseball diamond,
And Sharon….
And Sharon is echoing before school.