Just Your Man Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Quizzically, as if from the blue fjords I
Look at you: maybe it appears that you are beginning
This suicide for your man:
And you look great, and your daughter is neither sad
Nor weeping:
And it doesn’t hurt to look at you now that I have
Become numbed to beauty,
And my mother is home and flipping through papers and
Being otherwise distracting:
Soon maybe she will go out and ponder underneath those
Swings just where I picture you
As your penumbra swings and the algebra teachers bite all of
Their lips:
And I hated all of them but not half as much as when they made
Your swings safe and closer to the ground,
Even if you came sooner like an elite wind turning windmills
From the long hot stretches of yellow mountains;
And that was just your element that I had nothing to do with,
Because he was just your man.