In A Fruit Market Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I loved you in a fruit market—
For days and evenings, checking out—
Ways before and rain in the clouds—
When you went home,
You sometimes stopped by my house—
And we made love for the hour
That you were at my home
And then dissolved into the reality of
Your life—
I wrote poetry for you, in and out,
And tried to make love to you for
As long as I could—
But you were Mexican and couldn’t leave
The one you had children by,
And you broke my heart—
A thousand poems, drunken bottles
Left on the side of the road for you—
A dozen roses guarded by the rattlesnake
That wouldn’t go away—
And now I am writing like crazy,
Drunk again after a thousand years,
Waiting for you to come out of the sea,
Waiting for the sun to shine after it has died.