The Gods And Their Women Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If you go all the way back
You may seem them making love
At the end of the woods,
Where the wolves hunt unclothed,
Nearby the little house where grandmother
Still lives, though no one will admit it-
The gods and their women,
Paying no heed to the four seasons,
And only stopping twice a day for prayer.
They have no need for justification,
For the are happy to do what
They were made for,
And sometimes you stop the car
And idle up to the mouth of that road,
But it goes back so far,
And you know you are not welcome;
Instead you drive all day to the theatre,
Where you can watch them from a distance,
And you can be sure not to bother them.
After the credits, walking back again
To the real world turning with no need of you,
You count your change
And find just enough to buy a lonely
Condo, far away from your father
And the four horsemen,
But you haven’t yet built up enough courage,
And your mother is lonely
In the foothills of the buffalo mountain,
So you cannot yet leave her to move
That much closer,
Though one day you will saddle up unnoticed
In the shadow draped forest
Were the wolves hunt unclothed
Where you are sure to see them making love,
Close to where grandmother still lives,
Never minding the four seasons,
The women and their gods.