Them All Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Prayers kept in the cool sunburned gardens atop of
Mountains
Where mothers boys die passing under the whipping bang of
Lightning an the ungodly soda fountains:
Then I will take off my baseball cap and bless you and kiss your
Body,
Alma,
As we make love: and when we awaken there will be the sound
Of cars and war drums:
The days will go on forever like they do:
We can take your fair children anywhere you want to:
Alma.
The days are long and needful; the bodies creep like the shadows in
A zoetrope through the deserts of these spheres,
The oceans leap like cavaliers, and I really wished that I could
Know better words to pass through the elements for you
Alma:
But if I had been a professional, deep and brown eyed dear,
I would never have known you; and oh what I loss I would never have
To fear
Alma: now I only want to spread the gospel of remote control boats
For you;
I want to flag down beneath the over passes for you, Alma:
I never went to high school with a woman as beautiful as you are Alma,
Now believe in all the rough cadences from my throat,
Alma:
And all the rough silhouettes of paper boys skipping over their moats
And disavowing all of the castles of their woebegone schoolyards
For you Alma,
Passing away into the oblivion of many promises I hope to keep
Them all for you-
For you, Alma.