Skin And Bone Poem by Robert Rorabeck
Skin And Bone
Red crafts in outer space,
Or underneath the canopy of apple orchards:
The mountains looking on like
Overbearing mothers:
As the train whistles through the pass of
Travelers who no longer travel there anymore:
Windows without space-
Greenness and blueness without breath or wings,
Ribbons entwined in the tail of
A once pretty horse that is now little more
Than skin and bone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/24/2026 6:23:22 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
