To Be The Day Poem by Robert Rorabeck
To Be The Day
This seemed to be the day
They kept talking to me about—
Without eyes—without a television
The tourists and
The girls working—
The clouds making many fantasies
Up in the sky—
The moon hung upon itself over
A tiny yellow hacienda—
The light falling—
There you can see my parents
Waiting for months in
My tiny living room
For their first grandchild to be born.
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4/16/2024 4:56:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
the arrival of a grand child! certainly excites the grandparents at first!