The Vines Of Another Sightless World Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Awakening onto the patios where the sea has first leapt
And then ran away,
Coming to in the morning of the parking lots and her grayed
Ear lopes:
It is like I have driven up to her later day school again
In the earliest of morning hours
When I didn’t know what I should care for, while the world was
Still young and wild:
Then Michael was born, and Sharon was still curling warm
Clays around her hip;
And Alma was right here in Florida while the strange jungles were
Still growing,
And the stewardesses were still leaping right over all the boys
In their bed, in a chorus line of wishes,
And the house that I am in now was still right here,
And the ceiling fans turned like the weather, like the heroes dancing
With the villains and each of their sisters-
All the bodies giving off their little sighs from the vines of another
Sightless world.