Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,996 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

That Milk Through The Clouds - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am a pessimist as sunlight spurs underneath the gallop:
And the waves spear like Siamese angels up against
The shore:
The fort of our wedding rises to the herons,
Leering with green copper heads for many months
Across the ambivalent plot of the dead
Prostitute,
As I bight my lip and wonder where the windmills are:
As the children sing softly on the busses-
Going home from school,
Their ice-cream melting, and a new art in their eyes
They will forget by the time they get home-
When they close their eyes, they will sleep
Underneath the heavens,
Like a saturnalia of jupiters sleeping underneath the overpasses
That scribble the angels across the highways
That milk through the clouds forever wondering when
You will be home.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about That Milk Through The Clouds 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: Monday, December 19, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 20, 2011


[Report Error]