The Shallow Pornography Of Blue Gills Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Glimpses on the skin recreate the times when
Two bodies might have fallen together on occasion
Practicing out of the apple orchard
Like ghosts wondering inflammations of the sea-
They stroll by the rattlesnakes and cords of
Wood- The day slows down so that they can be
Together, until the hours go back inside shells,
Their mothers curling soft and yellow
Around mailboxes-
The trailer parks through the pine trees landscaped
With discarded plastic and coral snakes,
And the bicycles lay down there with the burs
Beside the girls leaning over
The shallow pornography of blue gills.