Her Brown Father Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Starting outs of a thought like an unrecognizable sail,
Like a puff of cloud,
Or a heart in its cage: and I told you that this love for me
Was like being in the fairgrounds all of the time,
And you laughed with your aunt, and your eyes were bright,
Even though they were dark brown:
And I think that you still hold an inkling of a love for me,
Alma, even though my time is short and I will soon leave me
House and learn how to migrate all the way to Mexico
Like the last of the contagious butterflies, and there to start
My own family in between the clefts and caesuras of the
Rocks and corn:
A family as bright and ill-equipped as yours, and that I love you,
While the stoolpigeons weep, and your daughter eats the candy out
Of your tattooed hand; and when she sees her brown father coming
Indoors, she gets so happy, and her happiness is yours.