Living God As Blind As Midnight Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Living God As Blind As Midnight



The milk of satin estuaries and of the milk men—
Who may or may not have been your father,
While we were abandoning your households on
Holidays—and the greater tenements seemed to sing
Of long forgotten holidays—but there remain places
That as of yet provide the kindling for
Other monsters and their housewives—whose kitchens
Sing, and whose pools glisten—
Words written down to win the lottery—
Stories told to abandoned men—horses who've leapt
Over their grottos and estuaries,
As the busses return just as the butterflies—
And the moon rises like a pregnant kite-
Stumbling across all of the hopelessness to find their
Living god as blind as midnight.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi 28 December 2012

the last three lines! what to say about that! Bret! all your poems are nice today! Thank you for sharing!

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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