Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,024 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Downy Curbs Of Ditches - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The power lines stretch and fawn, as the airplanes rapture,
And sometimes it will rain
As I imagine my mother coming out of that little house in
Her even littler, bluer slip:
There she is changing the laundry, as the ant lions molest in
The grass,
And the rabbits rest in the rock garden full of spikenard and
The neighbors are drinking beer, and the airplanes are launching
As if to Russia,
Everything bill folded into something that can fit across so
Many yards of the greenly understood,
While one or two misfits curl beside the cadavers of rattlesnakes
In the downy curbs of ditches that will never
Have to move again.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The Downy Curbs Of Ditches 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, August 16, 2010

[Report Error]