Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,746 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Time To Speak With No One - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

This is the time
To speak with no one
Once more,
The adversaries absconded
And drunk on the
Front porch
Shouting love stories to
The sororities
Pouring out of the swamp
After the game.
Out of my left ear I
Can hear a river
Roaring down the sidewalk
Where there is
A blue woman soaring
Like an addictive moth
Around the street
Lamp on the corner of
The Catholic church.
I open myself to
Pronounce a word,
A sound to turn her
Gently toward me,
But she has flown into
A tiki torch and she is
Burning, burning.
The party is just starting:
Gently graying salesmen are
Getting drunk and
And the strange and eerie
Boys in the living room
Are teaching bleached
Girls their tongue
And they are learning,
Not so far to the East I
Can hear the ocean
Like a woman in heat
Trying to find her way
Toward me,
But there is nothing I
Would say
That could help her
Find me.

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Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 11, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, April 16, 2011

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