Their Throats' Conjoining Spring Poem by Robert Rorabeck
Their Throats' Conjoining Spring
Open vases in disguise peering through her
Glass blown eyes,
As the buses all return on home: returning home now,
The children joy,
Look up into the sky and so employ:
Their hearts, their souls there
In visions spring-
While the lions they have never seen drink directly from
Their throats’ conjoined spring.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: home,spring
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8/28/2026 9:05:09 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
