Everything To Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Auspicious fire now aren’t you burning
Free and clear in the kettles of the roadways:
Without any other mile markers besides her married blue eyes:
Now aren’t you burning down between the arcades,
And in the bosom of those absolute mountains:
Inside that sorority where dye cast cars collect, and from which
The clouds swim up gurgling like chorus lines of pool girls;
And now don’t you remember we lived here once,
And we touched ourselves in public bathrooms, outside of
Which the swings very nearly took us up to god:
And the early afternoons were full of sweet propositioning, and hopes
That you would come like divine providence out from the tributaries
Of the less offensive school yard, as if some demigod had finally
Let off slaying his father’s, and had given you to the both of
Us, or at least to me; and that was when you could fine arrow heads
As green as envious coke bottles, and the cenotaphs were still
Being farmed in the sweet recesses of the early morning see;
And your eyes were so good and blue that they meant just
About everything to me.