For Another Man Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Up in the air where no one lives,
And then looking down
And feeling humbled- Remembering a house
That doesn’t stand anymore,
A forest that burned- her body
Left for the buzzards at the stone, the knight
Strung up in parts,
In parts eaten by witches: the soft motors that
Purr,
Robot engineers on the tight ropes of their
Quest,
The petals falling away in the game of love,
And then it is all over-
There is nothing left to do, but to reside,
To wait out the storm, as the cats have their own
Dreams in the aloe,
Beside the carport where the rebar lays stacked,
And Christmas is over-
And someone’s mother is there, kneeling, cursing,
Or praying,
But waiting for another man to come home.