The Angels Pretend To Sing Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The Angels Pretend To Sing



Echoing—these are my brother souls in
A kindergarten park: this is just what we do to
Stay alive
When the day gets along into dark—
The night birds sing—the jasmine perfumes,
But our parents are gone—
It isn't alright to feel alive,
But I am here—
I want to cry into your armpits—
As the melons grow—
And the angels pretend to sing.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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