The Commercials Of Love Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Yellow house, and turtle dove:
And body of man who very seldom is ever even there:
But you are there, as the waves whispering up
To the shore I never go to,
And the sad lawn which they have cordoned off,
And are taking down the swings of my childhood;
And the helicopters like red and yellow pearls
Cursing for their supper underneath the early moon;
As Alma is in her house, gossiping with her
Sisters,
And watching the commercials of love- feelings things
That I will not feel, but none the less shall never be
Extinguished.