Robert Rorabeck

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

Still Very Beautiful - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Numb wounds on the quiet playground,
While she is waiting for her purchased snow;
And grandmother is no where around;
There isn’t even a flag this way,
There is no immortality in patriotism,
Though I would still fight for her, if I could
Have my way,
And I still find my way onto those things,
The silent wounds that I collect in special flight,
The way I try to collect her sorority every night,
As she nods,
Like a neighbor or a salmon along its way,
Until the mountains are out of beer,
The horses are dying in the pasture,
And I am revealed for the harmless murderer
Of paper,
So the airplanes fly low, and they are not real:
They don’t even have real things to say,
But this is how they go,
And even dreaming, dreaming back and forth,
Almost Herculean,
Aren’t their dreams imperfect,
But they are still very beautiful.

Comments about Still Very Beautiful by Robert Rorabeck

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Friday, December 11, 2009

[Report Error]