Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,195 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Like Spanish Fields - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

My sad youth can almost smell your
Bolero,
When there is nothing left to spell and
Just lightning stores;
And I have been in and out
And in and out of Arizona and New Mexico;
And that is where my dogs are now in a lightning
Storm:
Tonight I looked at her youthful body in a room
Almost full of crepuscule,
Like a guitar in Spain, what the artists
Accumulate for;
Youthful séance of the time we have yet to live,
Truck dealers who have yet to deal with
The hours of pain- Never a truck filled up with
Cement or citrus:
And the day starts out like this glorious, and it
Was well worth it;
So the pain mummifies, prostitutes in their
Perfumed mausoleums waiting out the storm willfully then
Come out into the yard and smell the
Opening sky,
Like Spanish fields of
Purple butterflies.

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Comments about Like Spanish Fields by Robert Rorabeck

  • (2/6/2010 1:06:00 PM)


    I love this one too. Fantastic articulation of mood. Killer last lines. Great stuff Rob (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 6, 2010



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