Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,195 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

One At A Time - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Filled to the brim of egrets,
The clouds lose their surface looking down
At the paper airplanes stuck having crossed
The other side of the field:
Across the canal, with the spent bottle rockets,
And now in the glossy apiaries and motes
Of time:
Left there forever like teenagers who never have
To grow up, or awaken, to taste her soft
To watch her grown into a married woman:
So the same exact comets cross them, even after they
Are indistinguishable-
And the new blue gills grow up from the silver
Throated minnows, washing away their numbers
While eating each other one at a time.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 12, 2011

Poem Edited: Friday, May 13, 2011

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