Courage To Burn Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Pearle scent bodies waiting for the
School bus out in
The snow- waiting for so long beneath the overhangs,
As something else imperfect is said
Or written down:
And their mothers behind them, like their
Shadows stretching- their first words
Forgotten on their tongues which stay inside
Like terrapin hiding from the blistering stories
Of this cold weather;
But eventually they come- poking their sensitive
Heads out,
Or running away between their classes to their
Secret parks over the impasses of canals-
Running along the riverbanks, roaring
With snowflakes metamorphosing,
And skipping over the irrigation moving slowly
With blue gills,
Filling into the tardy drainage while the encephalitic
Sun tries to find courage to burn