To Fly Again Away Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Boys cuddling in the pools,
And the moon pulls up and has nothing to prove:
Is as round and embarrassed as a midnighted sun:
Goes around the corners,
Eggs on the run; and it feels alright, stealing on the lips of
Thunderbirded wine:
Why it feels alright straight into picking time, until finally
All the passions are laid low,
The snakes creep through the ditches that someone forgot
To hoe;
And this is the way she comes, like the lights in my heart,
Or like some many things I have forgotten to tell her that
She was to me:
My final rose, and muse: my, alma, sleeping beside me
And making love for only hours in a day:
As if all of a sudden my life turned into a carnival, and I got
To kiss and make my wishes upon her lips,
Until all too suddenly she had to fly again away.