Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,195 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

To Run Barefooted Back Again - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If my body is here now; it will soon be a
Cenotaph, it will soon be a firework spent:
And even while I still have my bicycle, even it will not be
Able to move after I am gone-
Then perhaps I am doing this right now, like a soldier
Being ruined in a war:
Like a wildflower humbled into the winter of its short life,
Even after its stamens have had at pollinated into so many
Perfumes by the orchestrations of the
Nose bleeding bumblebees:
And there are some mountains I cannot climb;
As Alma is sleeping again in her house right now, sleeping
Next to her man who builds swimming pools for
Housewives right now: what he does for them is that he
Puts in the blue;
At least that is all that Alma could explain to me.
As I took her back home from the orchards and the monasteries:
And we made love until we both found our summits,
But she was bound for home again,
To pick up her mother Rosa from work, to buy a bouquet for
Her mother who died back in Mexico so many years from now;
But I still found her, opening like a basin into a wishing well,
And even the very same way that the water fountains have
Fed their lips to hummingbirds
And cheerleaders, as the sky offered me her belly button to touch;
And even if I didn’t nor ever will I win the lottery:
Nor will I know the destinations of most rain storms, or the
Trailer parks in the northwest: I lied and pollinated with my
Ever faithful muse today: our bodies sang together today like
Angels, like rattlesnakes until she had to run barefooted back
Again away,
And that will forever be enough.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 24, 2010

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