The Deep And Uncertain Grottos Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The traffic vibrates my house and I am working inside
Here,
Each room a different color, but like a sorority of soft sea shells
Softly panting,
And buckets of rain in the quiet places where two roofs meet
And then are forgotten:
Alma is somewhere around here, pregnant and embarrassed on her
Buses:
I sat in Alma’s car a couple days ago while she kept a watch out for
Her husband,
And she asked me, why Robert, did the gringas look at her that way
Inside of her church:
Why Robert, she said my name, and there was a forest fire on
A mountain:
Alma was by my house this morning, and all of the windows turned
Brighter,
As she carried out her songs, and we studied for her citizenship:
I kissed her shoulder and then we drove away together, and I stopped
At the light and ran out, and Alma let me kiss her cheek:
And I think of the Virgin of Guadalupe and pray to her for
Alma in the deep and uncertain grottos of my very night.