Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

To Buy Her Flowers


Earth come down around her shoulders
And say to the bereaving mountains that she does
Not work at the fruit market anymore:
But she has gone up onto the shoulders of
Her husband—
And what she can see from there:
Flea markets basking in their grottos, and soft,
Unmolested ways back to Mexico:
Her eyes—oceans—
But she is entirely dependent and too far away
For me to buy her flowers.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 29, 2012

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