Something In Those Woods Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Her eyes have purposefully stalled,
Waiting breathlessly in her carriage in the middle
Of the noon forest-
She was on her way to the eastern sea to surf
And groom like a cat in the crook of sands,
But what if there was something here she
Might have missed,
Something along the familiar paths of woe,
Something she has always known to be here in
The gloomy woods of drunken sailors, oh!
Her powdered bosom heaves, her curls bob like
Pig’s corky tails as she stretches out the cab’s
Perfect window:
There are dunes and dunes swimming in the trees,
And great blue ants are fiddling with the dead,
But, Oh! She must see something that she doesn’t see,
For even the light performs its bawdy pirouettes;
But what was it, a boy’s silhouette? An insouciant fawn?
What goes traipsing through the marrow of this wood,
Like an effluvious soldier of her dictionary of favorite words;
Now she has bit her lip until there is a ruby stain,
But what she has been feeling she hasn’t yet to tell,
And the shadows are forever boxing, as if she were a present
They’d wish to slip away; So onward, onward she
Must hurry, oh! And into the breaking of the shore,
The sands are ever slipping away, and there, as the sun
Scalds her rouge lips like a naughty child, she lets the
Feelings go, but, Oh! There was something in those woods
Who knew her very soul.