Of The Night Blooming Jasmine Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sad as an elephant who can never drive—
Looking up through the Disney World of your Heavens—
All of the joy bought and sold,
Until what is left matriculates down to your neighborhood
While my very own wife is preparing to fly over all of
The hemispheres of the world to me:
When I get up, yawning, I find myself in the daycare of
The best of the headlamps:
Here is where the world is the best at illuminations
And there is nothing left of love letters to be given to
Recede with the tide—
You will belong here, pressing to my heart, while better
Poems jump off of their middle of the day roofs
Like little boys and roman candles—
And the same damned plagiarists will sing forever and
Forever in their choruses—that once this place was
Bright and echoing, when angels decorated their
Very own Christmas trees—and faeries awakened to
Kiss and make love to roses in their little garden,
Falling asleep to the sweet smelling caresses of the night
Blooming jasmine.