Lips Of The Gardenias Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The fan I bought you blows your auburn hair:
The ibex leap across the savannah and the children are lost:
We stand in lines and stare with our materials under the crooks of
Our dreams,
While the cats are out under the giant blue umbrellas,
And the statues carry their own hammers,
And we have been away, while the turtles were making love,
Brandishing their children like coal spilled across the corrugations of
The beaches,
And the little girls moved just a little,
And your eyes burned for another birthday across the horizons
Where the schoolyards were leaping;
And Alma’s sister passed through the arms of Jesus for her confirmation,
And the white flowers budded underneath the fountains
Across the perfumed lips of the gardenias.