Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,025 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Bigger Half Of The Wishbone - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The light candles and pools-
And you think that I would be grateful, that she has remembered me:
That she let out straight for her uncircumcised door and made
As if to come bounding for me,
Like a virile fox set on another thing out of reach- But so the planets
Burned, and we burned our fingers on the hot letters cooked into the
Ovens of the mail,
All those tinderboxes straight out of doors. Now I have a house that is
Eighty-five years old, in a neighborhood where the mailmen are only
Allowed to walk:
I saw her the first day I got here, and explained to her that it was my
House now, and she gave me my mail and went away while the airplanes
Went over us together, both at the same time,
And the jasmine waited to perfume the night: I bought a bird house,
Like a cenotaph captured in the spit of toothpicks to accentuate
The home,
To help me remember what I was, but eventually I will need to put a
Song inside, and a boat to go on the mantle of my fireplace;
And I girl who will love me who I can snap off the bigger half of the
Wish bone for,
One who will stay awhile and not just come by on workday afternoons
Heaving a satchel with all the bills.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 3, 2010



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