My Pitiful Earth Poem by Robert Rorabeck

In the morning there are still roses,
After the sororities have yawned,
And the mists are leaving raising like stupid flags
Above the elderberries and cockleburs:
And it makes me wonder how Sharon got up,
And how close to high school she used to live.
I used to imagine she was very poor and just moved into
To be a neighbor of affluence,
But I don’t know: Who am I to say,
And she has gone a long, long way along her separate way;
But the woods here are still all the same:
Little saplings awakened bright eyed and singing,
And she kissed them into an even bigger being-
And somewhere over her shoulder where she has cut her hair
Like a badge,
Like a silky otter, the traffic is flowing-kidnappers and murder,
Away and back again;
And I suppose she doesn’t care. She is so beautiful anyways-
She just lets them all take her children for the day:
Sharon, Sharon what are you doing?
Won’t you go on the rides with me? There are so many ways
To go about disproving,
The color of your eyes are disguised to me; and what am I doing,
But I can see you there right out perfumed before my
Aroused senses, complimenting your leggy extensions:
You are flipping over a thousand times impervious to the expenditures
Of this earth-
The way you go about pretending you care about the boys
Who are dying, it really makes me laugh:
You know you are as tremendous as the sparks of immortal fireworks;
I wonder even now what you might be doing,
Combing your conspicuous tresses, floating so easily above
My pitiful earth.