Finding Warmth In The Darkness Poem by Robert Rorabeck

It doesn’t have to be like this, even though
The day is gone over my shoulder,
As you have gone home to your family, but already I am
Wondering about what next time it will be
When we will make love, Alma; and I really want to
Kidnap you and take you to Arizona,
Or I just want to run away from you and rob banks
Against your shoulder;
And I can take you up to see the lonely boy gods of my
Mountains,
To the exact if roughly hewn pulpits of my heavens
Where I pined for you even before
I had the opportunity to consider you: these footpaths that I
Have always known,
Can carry your gold too, and we can pet my dogs together,
And I will carry your children away on my shoulders,
Laughing and making you carry your brownness up
After,
Until even the highest aspects of the journey look out after
Us,
And we go down perpetually, floating like magic over
The misplaced graveyards, and finally into the bedrooms of
Wildflowers who shut into one another,
Finding warmth in the darkness.