The Open Wounds Of The Earth Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Remembering the places they left us,
The new and the old chicken wire of the stars—
A zoetrope tossing over the sides of
A baseball game I missed you in—
The entire crowd an animation of skeletons,
And the road leading away from them growing old—
Old shadows over the renewing fountains,
The same birds singing—
The highways go down on their goddesses,
Just like the sunlight upon the Earth,
As the young skeletons turn over in
Their particular gardens—
See in the morning the new colors which are
Arising—
What plots which are bouquets upon their
Shoulders,
And the memories which the yellow buses
Drive home—
How many times have I told you I loved you,
With your head turned away
Hypnotizing—and in the morning,
Like selling fireworks,
Other beautiful heroes disappear upon
The open wounds of the Earth.