Rain Abates Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Rains abate,
But the sky remains perturbed:
Fumbling through my bachelorism, I put my
Money in a new bank;
My dogs are wet and chasing expensive cars
Through the effluvious jag of novel water-
My parents walk upstairs, while unperceived
Waves kiss the saturnine beach even now:
How poetic,
How poetic, and how slightly true,
But where do her legs open the parse of lies?
And how the sailors bemoan the tiresome seas,
The restless caesuras, the unabated embrace of
Nature’s bosom, the laughing tellers proceed to
Count the bills, fondling, fondling,
And then away for lunch: Soon the sun will
Draw back the curtains of the infernal stage and sing,
And sing the rhapsody of evaporation,
But where do her legs lie now above the coffin,
So far away, though when touched reverberating
With shivers like the sensitive glass brought
To the lips, the tiny circumferences of diminutive
Planets, revolving in the ignorant sky,
At first a child and then a man walking through
The forest and the dunes,
Fumbling through my bachelorism; The sky
Remains perturbed, though the rain abates,
And grows as still as a mantis on the curling bit of
Leaf, done calling her name, now in the silence
Of unreciprocating prayer.