Become A Flower Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If this cascade tumbles to where you
Hibernate, it will wash over you until your sleeping
Lips become a flower:
And when they yawn spring time,
I will carry my lunch to the valleys beneath you,
And partake in the sunlight pouring across
Your threshold,
And bask in the ecstasy every way that I can
With you
Looking down and yawn—
Carrying me in a basket of your meadows
As if I knew something about being a child
Of your heart