With Your Brown Hair Flowing Poem by Robert Rorabeck

A few glasses
And a few more words for you,
A simpler time:
A common beauty.
That is what you are
With your brown hair flowing.
How many boys have chased after
You in your life time?
Plenty, I think- and you are too modest,
Save when you’ve been toking,
And can laugh at your own beauty
And then demand sex-
I am surprised you are not famous:
I imagine you in so many ways:
You eclipse the famous women
Who attract me:
Patsy Cline,
Loretta Lynn,
Liv Ullman-
I think of you and espousing,
You become my premeditated muse:
Look at this. Here you are.
Another page for you,
And another day without knowing
You- Are so many waves,
So many lines and hours....
I should be filled by now.
Can you love a common man,
A pilgrim searching for you?
Then here I am, and hurry up,
Because with another sip of this,
It is getting too cold to feel....
What folly, to consider you,
To believe you to be the reincarnation
Of my ancestors’ romance....
What narcissism to believe as such,
Though the tomb is waiting,
To finish all that,
And soon there will only be
The stone mason’s calligraphy,
Some words facing east,
And the horrible wind blowing:
A thought, a word and its memory....
My feeble attempt to reach out to you:
If you do not hurry,
Then you will not know me,
And there will only be this....
Graffiti on the high altitude cliffs
That no one reads....
And another glass:
I am waiting for you still,
And holding myself until
You come to take up that duty.