The time has not come before <br />And this is new. <br />The light is opening for the day <br />An ingénue displaying her bosom <br />To man’s face- <br />I remember when <br />I was young in following her. <br />Her tassels feeling through the trees <br />And drinking roots, <br />She laughed even while <br />Alone; <br />Giggling, <br />She rode her bicycle across campus. <br />I staid up all night and prayed for her. <br />When tired, she slept <br />In the shade of a house- <br />Eyes half closed. I came to her, <br />She yawned and turned me away. <br />She said she loved me <br />Only when she was drunk, <br />And it was yet that time- <br />So long ago, yesterday.... <br />Then early this morning she came to me <br />And offered me the quaff <br />Of lips. <br />Dripping nectar on the limbs, <br />She said, “Never before now, old man, ” <br />As they lowered me in the grave, <br />Her light budded <br />A valleyide of rubrum, <br />A wedding at my funeral.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-wedding-at-my-funeral/
