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