The Vanishing Sea Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The Vanishing Sea



I wait for the airplanes of the stewardess who has
Abandoned me:
When will they be coming down, spilling like the water falls
Over the emollitions of my birthday:
Heavenly angels,
Soon they will be picking me up and carrying me,
And spilling my bouquets everywhere
While the tall guys laugh
And my parents abandoned me:
But they will carry me into the aerie of my cathedral—
Where I will spark and pinwheel for them, '
As if laughing for the professors in my high school—
And she cries down from the orchards with
Nose bleeds—
Shoulders and breasts of chicken pox cured by my innocuous
Amens—
Will she see me tomorrow, running into her on a bicycle:
How will she expect this to end—
And the sun carries upward its many promises,
Emollitions of knighthood and remembered Christmases:
This is not how it was supposed to end,
But it does—my dog howling in his dreams,
Remembering a Christmas that always dies—
That comes into her tents
And kisses her softly, becoming a dream in the morning
That blows across the vanishing sea.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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