Up Into The Clouds Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Look at the new places where we live—higher
Up on the shelves—
And only reachable by the ladders from our
Orchards—
While we spend all day outside in our playgrounds—
And helicopters stumble upon us
Like bumblebees in search of sugar time flowers:
I remember you in your miniskirt in the
Middle of the day,
As we tried to play some kind of sport next to
The sea—until
They kicked us out—until they sent us away—
And all of this has only pretended to be some kind of
Send up of some kind of love—
A daisy arcade for the afterlife of jelly-gfish
With the shadowy echoes and the faint sounds
Of airplanes—
And my love butchered upon the gambit—
The last of the last stars in the sky—another greeting
Card for the fire of dead mothers—
And tomorrow another day of high school—
With the angels looking up into the heavens
And the heavens looking up into the clouds.