Mailmen Who Come In The Afternoon Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Peaceful deluge does not know where
I am going,
Going in a peacefully hidden way—enjoying the
Stars as close as flowers
Like the sex organs of the fjord—
The word of your eyes is a bathtub—
Oh, Thing in your eyes, winged—transitory—
Taking new loves,
Developing new hearts, the emotions you
Forget to trust-
Thoughts as indecisive as the colors on the yard,
Stretch sails mewing to the evidences of a
Mailmen who comes in the afternoon
While all of the housewives are away.