Quiet Reasons To Live Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Cool, cool ashes
Floating through the yard’s grasses,
Makes me remember the pantheisms
Of the easy and commercial road-
This is how it looks to me out the pastoral verandas
From my window-
Everything so painless and beautiful,
And in the morning,
If I am up early enough,
The bus will be waiting not far from
Where the lions are snoring;
And if it is the correct season,
By seventh period,
I will be well drunk,
And the skies despotic,
And stormy,
Somehow as beautiful as her lips when
They are beaten, and pensive,
And giving me quiet reasons to live.