Keeping Time With A Stranger Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Light as smooth as rainstorms
And then of purple cars- I can feel my pulse
In the highway
Underneath the sky- as you move with
Your echoes to the delight of
Clocks
In the ballroom of your thoughts where
The tenements never decay- I can feel your
Thoughts streak across me-
They are keeping time with a stranger they
Can never know,
And the heart beats its metronome’s
Song, and I suppose you’ve heard it before
If you were ever listening.