To The Glorious Women Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now they have friends here in the park,
After the footprints have left and the lake is quiet and full
Of manmade secrets;
And maybe there were no promises or rainbows here
Ever,
Or things to tie the knot: maybe this is the only place where
Silence has always been
Perfect,
And I can step out into here and feel the short cuts of
Grass that sing their offerings to the sun
In the middle of the school day
When I was supposed to be in class,
And the clouds have come down low, so curious and experimental
And doing things that the despondent housewives would
Better off to be watching;
And where the seasons change without doors, and the fireworks
Bark:
Where little girls go to pray to the glorious women who
Are not quite there as the world and all of its traffics travel on to dusk.