The Setting Sun Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I cannot lie to her
When she will not tell me
Where she lives:
Not since the flood when
All the sorrowfully innocent lives
Stopped reading books and looked up:
Surprised-
Until they got to their destination.
Getting out,
They politely walked away.
Where I sat behind the wheel,
I was too stunned to speak
So I just remained and
Watching the instructional video
I fell asleep-
Blinded by drink I drove around town
Calling their names out the window
Like a wounded hound,
My piss stained tears marking the
Territories she used to glow
Like the seed of a virgin summer
While the maritime marines pulled
Up and did battle in the sea.
After I had gone away
I heard from a friend
That she crawled out of the clouds
Like a swan
Just realizing what she was
And yawned:
She did a high-dive toward the east
But tore her leg against
Spanish Moss,
And from that wound
A choir of angels sang,
Little children played triangles
While she, still bleeding,
Fell in love
As the shade gathered
From the setting sun.