Into The Sea Again Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And that sea a languid beauty: I do not know her.
I am just sweating in a tenement in Shanghai,
But soon I will be returning home,
Without a wife, and the sky is hung-over
And filled with the vortexes of dead ends,
As the foxes hang upon the barbed wire:
But I made her pregnant,
Travelling the sea to her, and back—and
Back again:
It took maybe sixty times to make it permanent,
And not she rests just on my shoulder,
Like a string of stars around a Christmas tree
She cannot possibly believe in—
But I will take her around here to meet
Those holidays that I was born with:
And our child will know all about the fairies
That happened to partake in the both of us—
Even if he doesn't believe in them:
He will have both hemispheres, and so many
Places to go hiding—
And he will close his eyes, and the sun will melt
Into the sea again.