In The Breathings Of Your Vicinity Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Muse come from Mexico: I saw you today,
Your camouflage still brown:
The pennants of the fronteras body yet blowing youngly:
Having birthed two children
Who will have their next two birthdays in the next
Two months, consecutively:
Alma: the fairgrounds for my heart, beating the green sweats
Of venal playgrounds- of ripening graveyards:
Oh muse across the strange lines of another tongue:
If found you here knocking again:
I wanted you to be a pilot- I told you while we drove to
See your family’s lawyer, that you would look good in an
Airplane:
And then I took you to lunch, and home again to make love:
Like a wish spent on a journey, you then returned across
The rose bushes where the
Jockeying coins are spent, like gold bleeding from the satchels
Of something running away:
And the caves were closed to tourists: and the windows took
On inward lights,
Like a beautiful snow was falling inside: and I couldn’t move:
I was a statuary turned to life in the breathings of your vicinity:
And I realized so many things far away from college,
With the brown light living in your eyes,
Casting upon me; and your lips trespassing on my ears:
Even if I wouldn’t live right now- It wasn’t all impossible,
And you were not that far away.