Like Cremations Into That Air Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Like Cremations Into That Air



They made their persuasions at his elbows—
Like mongooses in a used car sale,
And I remembered her as I worked alone
Before the sun’s blindness:
Attributing thought to her, trying to call her to my
Barenuckled shoulders in her absence:
She used her other senses—followed a dog underneath
A Christmas tree tent and fell asleep in
A forest that couldn’t drink—
Beside a canal where the iguanas and turtles teamed
And the black men and Mexicans lingered
Their hair and fingers intermingled with the ants
Who slipped down to see the blue gills
Drinking their fill on either bank—as the airplanes
Rose like cremations into that air.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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