The Secrets Of Their Fire Poem by Robert Rorabeck

They were singing once again in the atrium,
But what were their words:
The student parking lot was empty except
For birds,
Baby- headlights blind to the ant mounds
And baseball diamonds.
I guess there was someone I loved, as the airplanes
Filled the sky, going above the storms
To other worlds, filled with beautiful women
And twice as many of their legs
Bearing their cups like Ganymede to Saturn,
To constellations drinking them
As housewives, their innocent cousins
Remained in the earth slumbering just like Grizzly
Bears, and keeping their scars and the
Secrets of their fire for themselves.