Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,893 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Nameless Graves - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Received in a choir that has no throat,
Received in an ocean without a boat, the lines of clean
Absence in the roofless house
Looks straight up at angels, the airplanes flicker like
Bad celluloid,
And the windmills blow out their cakes like the wishes of
The flesh,
As I remember you, Alma, and call you to me,
Like a dream of pennies drowning in a wishing well,
All of my half spoken hopes wasted into the flatbed
Caves,
As all the empty happiness boils up from the most nameless
Of the nameless graves.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 18, 2010



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