Robert Rorabeck

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

The Faces Of My Mortal Gods - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The sound of running domesticated water
Means my family isn’t yet asleep;
And I cant look at my face in peace behind the
Yellow curtains;
But that means that I shouldn’t have to weep,
And Diana is coming in the morning,
With her sport cards of body and cold beer:
And Diana is awakening into the world a new
Virgin,
And the airplanes are awakening down upon her
And kissing her wrists as if courtiers;
And all the countries are at peace, and I can’t think
Of any better words for which to use to describe them.
Someone is still taking a shower in the heather,
And my two muses are making love to better men
Atop the better mountains; I can hear them from here:
It sounds like they are starring in a wonderful musical,
While I am just frantically trying to swim,
Or to survive another night to keep the candles burning
So that I might still see the faces of my mortal gods
By them.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, February 4, 2010



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