My Awakened Graveyards Of Uncertainties Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The flowers on your car are gone:
He is still there,
And you will not leave him: you said to me,
You buy your own flowers-
And he is your family, and it rained today
And I rode my bicycle across the bridge
And nearer the sea-
Where I listened outwards for your echo-
Things I’ve never pretended to see bloomed
In the sky,
As my parents returned from Arizona nearer
And farther away from me:
And I will not see you tomorrow-
But if the head upon your body weeps,
It is a simple head, and beautiful- and I wonder
If I must conclude that the soul you seem to
Be named after will also weep-
But I am uncertain,
And the day goes forever to sleep across
My awakened graveyards of uncertainties.