By Its Fireman Poem by Robert Rorabeck

By Its Fireman



When the night gets really busy with its loving
And all of the cars are parked with their houses:
Then you are dancing with your sister
Like double scoops of butterflies in your tenements,
And all of the cypress is in a foggy sorority wishing too
To join you;
And it has become so beautifully dark, that I am almost
Beautifully too: then I want to step out and join you,
While the rivers sing in place of the homebound traffic,
And the topiaries are rich with the verdure of
Your surplices, those things you’ve traded in for his arms;
And they are so big as to be thought over:
And pressing into you, as if making a crèche for you,
Aren’t you so relieved and you feel just as safe as a kitten
Being taken down from a tree by its fireman.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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