For Both Of Us Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Alma:
The day was ours, but we did not enjoy
It,
Together:
I fought beside the water cooler by myself,
Until I found your eyes:
Smiling,
Smiling, and not at my idiot of idiot cousin:
But when we sat
Side by side like husband and wife
At lunch on that pitiful table outback of the
Fruiteria,
And I transplanted that little ring to your married
Finger and it made you laugh,
And you expressed your sadness at having children
Before knowing me,
But still was swayed by your desire to take
Michael to Disney World on his next birthday.
And still the airplanes swam as if it was your birthday
In their crosses of fire,
While everything that I had to say was failing,
As the orchards knew themselves by their own colors;
And only if I knew by that hour of loneliness,
And floated above its grave,
Taking your warm hand to my wounded chest, and
Blessed by still beating breath by your warm
Tardiness;
Then couldn’t you tell by any of this that there wasn’t
Any longer anytime for school,
Or our mutual misunderstanding of both of our languages,
While the bottle rockets shot off like salutes to the court
Where we could both be rhymed together and
Find reasons for both of us to believe.