Into Crepescule Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I have struggled for what I have to sing:
And I am not a conquistador, I am have not even seen the verdant
Lips of the Amazon:
All I have is some words, not even enough:
And I have skipped some chain-links of the swings near the animals
In the park,
And I have held Alma’s hand while we jogged and then had breakfast
And then went to the zoo and then made love:
And then we made love,
And watched the extincting birds become really extinct,
Like vanished classrooms, like the lips that were never deserved;
And I have made love to Alma off and on,
And it was all because she was innocent enough to recognize my love
Above my color:
So our bodies have swung together, as I hope they will continue
To swing like swings over the park and on into dusk,
And the continue verdures of the close lips of mailboxes and
Stewardesses on into Crepuscule,
Of all things.