The Longest While Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Wear out the breath the sea gives to the cities,
Wear out the stones the chameleons think on turning red,
Wear out the mountains looking up her airy dress,
And put me safely into bed....

These are the conditions the armies give for surrender,
The unmalleable truths I wear on my face to block her out,
The fathomless weary trees whose coats are draped down
By the steady hand,
While the mothers turn an eerily blue from their shouts....

The prominence of adulterous sky in sunny weather,
And the hidden avenues where the bold and heartless traipse,
Even if her apartment is up some stories from the infant river,
My hands were a wreath for a hollow door until they lapsed....

Banished, stored in the silos of my husky cheeks,
The burnishing warmth of a new tooth and the mother’s smile,
Removed her clothes and laid down on the second floor,
And didn’t think to turn again to me for the longest while....