To My Old Neighborhood Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Divine providence returned me to my old neighborhood
Just on the other end of Southern Boulevard
Not to win the lottery but to fall in love
With a girl from Guerrero Mexico: who the same old
And lucky dog had taken her so far this way
Herself,
Until we were like two butterflies perched in the same petal
Enjoying the same romance of our games of
Love, neither wishing to return to the homes that once knew
Us
And the loved ones who had forgotten us to the steps
Of graveyards;
But only for the soft bliss in our tomorrows, holding hands
And driving together, sometimes east, toward the sea:
Which is always the best way: but you can only go so far
Before you are returned by the memories who refuse to
Forget the furtive clothing, that like fire we were
Trying to disrobe.