The Silent World Of A Stolen Gold Poem by Robert Rorabeck
The Silent World Of A Stolen Gold
If you flood in with perpetual vagabonds, how
Will you discover whatever was meant to be real:
As the remainder of that cavalry still struggles
To make it up the hill,
Trying to crown the precipice of the sky that they
Feared to be real- blue boys looking into
The silent world of stolen gold: as if I were
Waiting outside of your bedroom
As you made love to another man at least as beautiful
As I.
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8/30/2026 2:20:52 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
