Treasure Island

Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

In Her Beautiful Hair


Nubile poem on the cleft of an orb—
Silence slips over the curves of a river-
And the strange jewelry that decorates the housewives
Without a sound—
Sandlots of castles of missing cars
And other mouth less amusements—matriculating
To themselves until they happened to believe that
The most fabulous invention of all happens to
Be the hallways of their highschools—
And now if you can picture what joy they are in—
In the strange memory of fishes swimming around
A midway of an unbelievable palace that was
Never there—why then,
A joy to them- a joy to them—
A spark of a firework igniting in her beautiful hair..

Submitted: Friday, November 02, 2012

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