Of Your Yesterday Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The words travel on out like vagabonds with their feet,
And you are already lying on down with your man, Alma
Like a vagabond butterfly who has found something to eat:
And in the morning you will have to dropp Heidi off at
Daycare,
And then maybe you will be here: maybe you will be here,
While our lovers beds make their casual caesuras flipping off the
Unabashed sky,
While you kiss your uncles, and I tell them my goodbyes;
And maybe you have loved other men, Alma: maybe you have loved
Them, while the sea has slipped away:
But I don’t want to be any one of the, Alma: I still hope and
Pray to be the fieldtrips of your sweet tomorrow, to winnow our perfumes
Of wings and pollinate all that will be our children over the graveyards
Of your yesterday.