The Boundaries Of Its Adolescent Life Poem by Robert Rorabeck

There was a battle somewhere over the mountain
That could never be numbered—
While there were billboards,
And some woebegone artists put more nettles into
An opalescent pine forest that could never strike out
So far,
And I suppose you saw her at your doorway or
Out of the window of your car—
Just a passing fancy—just a whim of light—
Just another beautiful advertisement to pass away
Into the night—
Momentarily she was real- or she was a candle burning—
She was one of the numbers leading up to your
Birthday—
While you sat with your knees pressed to your tiny brown
Breasts—and to toads ululated forever more—
That one there was a tower inside a cathedral that
Burned and burned without ever having to give up
Or to learn about the absolving beautifies that swept
The boundaries of its adolescent life away.