Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,196 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Graveyards Of Sandcastles - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Eternal suppositions of the somnambulant jellyfish—
This way she is going,
With her poisonous dresses flung out, and all around her
A sunken orchard—
Feeling through the tears shed by the clouds—
In a beautiful nation beside the shore:
This is my disease for her,
While the traffic stutters beneath the kites and the
Claustrophobic airplanes:
She is not dashing towards any particular ballroom—
In a clutter of tangles—nerves like open extension
Chords waiting for the Pieta of my mother at
The Laundromat—even the men do not know
What to think of her,
As she waits for her time to glisten in the graveyards of
Sandcastles where you take your children
To escape the prisons that you call home.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 6, 2012

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