The Memories Of A Forgotten Storm Poem by Robert Rorabeck

When her eyes lifted,
We got lucky with the storms-
In the night,
We brought the power to the worms
And the houses shifted in the sands-
The way lovers lay across one another,
And turtles drift in the tides:

The moon looks into her window,
And into the mirror of shells.
Children go to school with scabby elbows.
They are making a kaleidoscope of expected dreams.
They come together like raindrops over a teepee-

The plains are destroyed by the wildfires teared
From the mountains,
But when the great bear opens his eyes,
All is calmed, and the buses find homes,
And the concrete hums altogether with electricity.

And the moonlight is a distant memory-
The stars cannot be seen-
Even though the movie screens have shed their
Pornographies,
The way cicadas undress of skins and knights
Upon the melaleuca trees,
Our first loves no longer remember our names-

And the night is a pavilion for the teenagers,
Some of them believing that they will never have to come
Home.
The trees are distending into the shadows,
Arms as tangled as those lovers-
Those who made love together, welded into
The memories of a forgotten storm.