Underneath The Castle Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Very beautiful underneath the castle of the
Yellow moon—while my wife sleeps I look at you
And drink rum—
I do not feel guilty—in the morning will be the
Weekend—I will get my car washed,
I will clean the floor—
And there will come a million or at least a thousand
Ways to come around to finding you—
In that brilliant daylight of your
Playground while no one else is looking
And nothing else can be found.