Enougn Riches For The Both Of Us Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Where the car has gone away—taking the hands that
Hold her breathing—
Taking her children up the road and into the orange trees—
To sleep underneath some basking moon,
As my moaning comes like terrapin out of my body's
Shell—
That I am dust underneath a race horse—and I cannot see
Where the metamorphosis bathes around the knees of
Cypress:
And there is an absolute glitter in the slowness that the
Alligators drink, hungry-throated—holding their breath,
Swallowing enough riches for the both of us.