Robert Rorabeck Poems

Doing good echoes as the airplanes
Fly like
Crows above the classroom or in the trees:
They remain there harping above
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Money on the vine of crows-
The dogs are laughing at the tricks of the coyote,
And you have grown further away from me,
My muse:
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Yellow ribbons around your favorite ponies-
As your little sister swells in the meadow
Underneath the mountains I climbed a decade ago:
She remains so sweetly even
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Going through the poses through the fence
Posts- I suppose you have seen her
With the slanting sun-
In the ballrooms of gunpowder, flying with
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Hammers in a circus
And little girls with blonde hair: see which way
They are moving,
Notice how they care- lackadaisically through the
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I’ve been playing by the rules:
I’ve been to California and touched the sea
By myself,
But never thought of the butterfly- web of
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Secret fountain listening to the hummingbirds
In the garden:
Build at right angles to her trinkets-
Thick with the amoebas of tadpoles
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Sweet mineral room of a talking skull,
You linger over my desk as the sky ticks-
Echoes of girls on the swings
Over the rain puddles that dry before lunch
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River, what do you symbolize- it isn’t
Love that flows through you
Coming down the mountain, leaping
And showing yourself over
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Imperfect, underneath an overpass,
Underneath the stolen moon- while bicycles
Recline in the dark shadows,
And turtles have more than one shell:
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