The Abandoned Highways Of Forgotten Time Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Up from the view of her wedding window,
A little bird collects its things-
Nature's pieta, as mountains collect their
hoarfrost-
Lost coats spread and diadem the
Permafrost-
In echoes of highways that are never found:

Children of my eyes
Encircle the womb of imperfect jade-
Light of a hollow bar cascades
upon the naked skeleton:

marbled keys spread out for you, white games
Collecting on the skree hidden from the prayer
Flags;

a jet of poltergeists combined from the
ancestors-
a spume of fallen mountaineers in their twenties
mummified upon the banks,

the way I reclined in the camping grounds
of an abandoned highschool-frozen,
I am still there, swinging the glass,

A smoking canter- a swingset you've never seen-
a ghost enjoying the liquor
pouring from the abandoned highways of forgotten time.