What She Will Do Tomorrow Poem by Robert Rorabeck
What She Will Do Tomorrow
I have another word that slips into the covers
Of the fire,
While my glass melts- becomes butterflies, if it
Wants to:
And it was supposed to rain, but it didn’t,
So my muse came over and made love to me.
Then I took her to the store and bought a present for
Her daughter’s birthday,
Until her husband called and stole her away,
Leaving me alone to wonder what she will do tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 8:12:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
