Laces To String Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I wouldn't have painted my room—
I wouldn't have gone to China without you—
Now,
Some bird is singing against the bell—
Can't you hear,
It is time to go to school—
Time in its metamorphosis of truancy,
And you are still hear—
Lasting,
Echoes of your steps—like the places where
Raindrops fell and kisses touched—
Dimples in a shell—
Wall-less windows where the sunlight tugs—
And airplanes carry stewardesses
Like marionettes without any strings—
But places to go—
And laces to string.