Your Brown Again Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Brown as the brownest parts of a day:
Brown as the brownest midway, and full of lights,
And just as absentminded of the things I say:
Perched in my curling sheets of gray:
I sing to you like the earth falling down like a marble in
Colossal game through the heavens,
Like an auburn tear, your body sheds through an autumn
Year:
Brown and as beautiful as a leaf coming down
Across the crossed browned streets like the dun ribbons
In the hair of cafes:
Brown and as important as a reddish brown brick in the
Façade of a university while I am sure that you will never
Attend;
You crossed barefooted from your tiny brown town
To the other end of America:
You crossed the frontera in your little brown time:
And now I intend to make your brown mine,
For when I awaken I can see your brownness floating atop
The topless sea:
Airplanes are touching down in the deep red brown fields of
Your hair,
And your sisters come around a delight with you there;
And you seem to call to me from across the other end of a brown
Pool,
And you cannot even swim, but I swim to you, and press
Your brown presents to my pale skin: Alma: I kiss you, and
Take you further out into the dun dim, where we kiss once more
And I sing of your brown again.