To See Her Make Any Wishes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

They made love over brown railroad tracks;
And in the web of her left hand,
Just as brown- as if she’d just come from playing
Baseball,
His first initial for the rest of her life:
Though she slept with me off and on for a year,
Today it is all over- we told each other
As much.
I imagine the birthday cake I sent her has arrived,
But with a different meaning-
The last gift was the same as the first, but I was
Not there to see her make any wishes-
Things she didn’t have to believe in anyways.