Just Thus Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Seasawing the epitaphs to my shoulder bones,
I somehow still manage to hang on:
The world turns around on its belly, and stares me in the eye:
The horses hang from the trees, braying, looking out
At the sea too-
That great heart that is beating its last dancing in the foaming
Strength of the jaws
That certainly know- in the meals of the hours of the work
Day this is just thus;
The doorknobs that await like Siamese twins the busied hands
That come home to rest,
Curling their lashes toward and away from the dusk-
The bones of leafy shadows sweeping across
The window sill,
Like a zoetrope of rabbits and foxes:
And then the eyes close the window fronts of the soul:
And the sea settles dismissively- and this is just thus.