Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,700 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Last Pieta - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Her family in the satin woebegone
As if lying down in a holiday of movie theatres:
Her family the brushstrokes of her fear,
Or my forgotten art- how it fails like matchless arson
To ignite her throes;
But in a bright trailer park I picture her on the west coast
Of Florida,
A runaway, half naked- happy to see the waves
As they brush across her feet as she walks with her first child
Before she knew me:
A religion to walk as if the waves are trying to hypnotize her:
And she smiles,
Waits for her husband. There are fewer cars on the road,
And fewer graves everywhere-
Her parents don’t even exist yet. Right now she can say that
She comes from America- If she is my mother,
It is a guess- or she is my brown skinned muse full of amnesia
As an apiary is its honey-
And she spills her naked self across the sand,
Teaching her son the few words that she believes she knows.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The Last Pieta 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, May 30, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
  10. Television
    Roald Dahl
[Report Error]