Because Poem by Robert Rorabeck

You’ve got bruises on your body:
Like rain clouds in the sky,
The opal trunks of aspens
Quiver in the afternoon’s sorrow:
The wild flowers are suppliant
About the dead oak
Halfway up the draw:
If you came to see me tomorrow,
And your nails were painted red:
It would not matter,
I could not love you, because
You’ve made me pass the time alone.
I still see you like ancestors
Rolling across the prairie
In the briars of the lightning storm,
But if you came to me tomorrow
And your lips were painted red
It would not matter,
I could not love you, because