Potion of earth underneath
The roses:
Where your mothers lie who were
Never home:
But in words of their silent
Lips,
They make their supposes
As the waves
And the airplanes come and circulate
Around
The dog tracks of your hips
And in the games of their memory:
Laughingly jubilant-
Until the daylight surrenders to the rainstorms.
Robert Rorabeck
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/until-the-daylight-surrenders/
