Before Christmas Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Up in that calling where
You make new friends,
And I can still hear the neighbors complaining about—
After you have walked away—
Before Christmas
And another new year
With our baby crying outside,
And my wife lactating—
I haven’t seen you after I’ve been to China,
And I wouldn’t want to
Even if I said so—
Tomorrow is your birthday,
And you are far away
Even if you are down the street—
And my little boy has some lungs,
And when his mind runs off into dreams
Without language—I cannot possibly imagine
Where he goes,
But I know he gets there—without even having to
Think of you:
Places I haven’t been to:
Fruit markets of moons, sleeping in jumbles
And heaps—the cars in cathartic stasis—
The wolves fallen amidst the nurseries,
Their long-snouted senses pollinated
By the night blooming jasmine
We once smelled together,
Hold hands,
As we both tried to walk away.