Before Another Christmas Falls Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Un wonderful in the night, each pine a silent lady—
Orphaned words beckoning me as I've run away
Beneath the swing-set—
If there was a joy in your lake of tears,
I could see all of the way to the bottom,
To the coral
And the mermaids—to the chandeliers of
The filthy rich—
But now my time comes in the weekend—
Your take off your brown skin to hang across
The runways of your lonely man's bed—
And you have bent to him in every way,
Taking the meanings of your silences as you can—
My face and soul a wreck for you,
Otters cracking legumes openly in my neighborhood
Where the birds fly west and south
West and south—
Going to see the virgins and the drug cartels—
Going to kiss your aunt's lips
And your sister's lips before another Christmas falls.