Unopened Yesterdays Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I’ve left them all in a shadow of a shell:
It was the best and the last of anything that
There ever happened to be
Tattooed together upon their hemisphere
So outside of their agricultures of the places
Where they persist but cannot love—
And, anyhow,
We’ve had a banquet for awhile anyway. Atleast
while they were loading their guns:
And it doesn’t have to be a place, anyways—but
Just a cave that the shadows remember
Under Neptune:
And this is how I happened to survive:
For awhile repeating the happy kites
Even for the minimum of memory even while
the heavenly ships sailed off so heavenly
And all we were left with was the forest:
The forest, the forest and the snow and
Her captain while she just keeps remembering
And rememberingt and calling
Used bookstores to her and to her the memory—
While I have driven and driven to her so many
Times the memory—
Eventually there are the condolences and then tomorrow—
Or the tomorrow’s tomorrows anyways burned beneath
The shadows anyways—and, perhaps, I never loved her—
Anyways—and just because it seemed to happened—well,
There it was, and it just so happened, or it never
Happened into the shadows of all of those mouthless
And unopened yesterdays.