Even While You Slip Away Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Fire hydrants in mistaken Iroquois,
And now you taste his lips, while I’ve been down to the
Bottom of the Grand Canyon three times
To taste hers,
While my legs and body ached upwards for you,
And saw the amphibic silver bodies of airplanes
Leaping in the illusions
Of the telltale weathers: and I didn’t even know who
You were, Alma; but now shouldn’t it be
For all times, for good and for evil,
Now that my soul has tasted yours,
That I will always know who you are, even while you
Slip away.