Their Throats' Conjoining Spring Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Their Throats' Conjoining Spring



Open vases in disguise peering through her
Glass blown eyes,
As the buses all return on home: returning home now,
The children joy,
Look up into the sky and so employ:
Their hearts, their souls there
In visions spring-
While the lions they have never seen drink directly from
Their throats’ conjoined spring.

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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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