This Hollow Green Soul Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Reasonable silences give me the time of
Day,
Holidays of silences, nature preserves of dead
Grandfathers now I never cared about,
Never carved turkey for;
And yet the sky is so pale you would think I
Had done something wrong;
And with your eyes given up on my body’s
Burnished hinges, it’s the truth that you really didn’t
Care.
Caught up in your stack of cards, fumbling on your
Back with that moon-
Don’t you know he doesn’t have any light which is
His,
And if you love him that way then subconsciously it
Is me you want, for you are the sunlight I
Pickpocket to feed the hungry children latch-keyed in
The ironic living room of this hollow green soul.