Closer To Me Poem by Robert Rorabeck

When did she lose herself after shop class
And maybe barefoot in the crown of thorns in some part
Of the off centered diamond
In the landscaping of middle school:
Where she went to instead of going to lunch is where
She has always gone to,
And we will never know, except that we already know:
And she has made beautiful things with her body, marching,
Played out under the sun
Where she can actually relax for awhile while her
Kids are playing;
And then her eyes have to wander, because that is what she
Is made of, and I can only hypothesize that is what she is
Always doing;
And at night while her trailer makes the sounds of ghosts
Too impossibly large to be there,
I think she is moving again, her body softly breathing:
I dream that she is getting closer to me.