Wanting To Be Hers - Poem by Robert Rorabeck
New rivers in the full horizon- beautiful words that
I don’t even know
Newly budding in a cemetery- and how they hold over
For her like candles
On her holidays- ripe as corn in an unabashed field-
Brown as her body looking at the
Sugar cane burning,
As she came over to America and pulled up to the movies,
As the raindrops of another place-
Hit her body once or twice wanting to be hers.
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