To The Mountains Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If you love me, go with me now
Before this apple falls
And the earth turns over and becomes
Uncovered
Before her perfumes are covered with earth
Before her avenues decay
Or my words are found out by carrion and taken
Away across the boulders where
The rattlesnakes are lying all strung out
Like tangled extension chords
Carried away by the same mother whose ankle
Was bitten beneath a lighthouse
And the hummingbirds flew backwards to
Just as the paper insects mopped and coated her
The waves ululating against
The pylons that they could not have her, or that
The road was forgotten
And still she found her way back through the virulent
Glens
And the stallions into a house that didn’t even
Exist anymore where she laid and curled until the crypts
Of the grasses overcame her, and the wild
Peonies told unbelievable stories of her to the mountains