Thoughts Of A Dearly Innocent World Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Out in the pastures the knees of felines and antelope
Are knocking hard,
And the cars are getting washed by homeless knuckles:
Where the fruit trees basked filled with knowledge and
Sleeping gentlemen;
And your house is right down there between the graveyard
And the supermarket:
And that is where you make love, and I can find you rinsing
Your hair and smiling through the transoms which
No longer reflect into me thoughts of a dearly innocent world.