Of Cloudless Days Poem by Robert Rorabeck

All of the bodies happen for a reason across
The séances of clouds,
Or that was just the beginning of an answer to the stucco
Staccatos,
While the mountains were humming like pygmies,
While all of the rice was being thrown like dice in the games
Of weddings,
And then the fell in love, and then they fell away,
Like beautiful sisters who once had slept together only to
Open their pinafore of eyes across the bodice
Of a revealing day:
And then to make the frantic, professional motions
Back into the cloyity of clouds and airplanes,
While their cars hustled and bustled, and tried to make
Merry all through out
The most awful and most horrendous of cloudless days.