Like Birds Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sometimes when it rains in my dreams
You come to me through damp oak trees,
When the day is but a suggestion of
Grandfather’s light smoking between the leaves.
When the sound is soft and pattering,
You sashay towards me in your mother’s cotton dress.
We dance together in a falling world as
The showers rattle down through the
Scribbles of sleeping limbs, we too come together
After daylight has gone out and moonlight comes in,
And the weather abates and watches you in my arms.
You grin like a woman who knows who she is,
And I kiss you and taste the dampness of your lips,
Like tiny wet oak leaves beginning to burn.
Holding you, the world just turns and turns,
And on the swings we hold hands and
Fly for a little while just like birds….