Exactly Where She Is Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Apples of poison above her
Auburn head: barrettes in her hair, and airplanes
Flying low:
Her lips stung now by jacketed wasps
And later, in the waves
Jellyfish:
She will think then that she can almost
Swim,
As she does: against the false lights of the
Trailer parks and the dorms of sparrows:
And she will swim so far,
She will almost make it home,
The pockets of her slip filling with sand
Until, finally, she has to open her eyes
And find out exactly where she is.