The Premonitions Of Footprints Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Up into the lights of the world again,
Completing their contemporary circulations,
While the lasses bathe and perfume and then leap right out through
Their porticos and transoms:
Never fearing the specters evaporated from the baseball diamonds
And the lawns:
Going their own ways up above the earth, holding their breath
As they try to recollect the letters that stamped them through
The calling hairs of the lawn when they were dampened
And fell like the premonitions of footprints through the swings
And into the sandy pools dug out beneath them:
While the realization of what exactly it was they were trying to describe
Has gone on, while the busses are already filling themselves up
With gas as they get ready to pick up the heady students for
Another morning.