Into A Warm And Familiar Class

Brilliant cathedral of an overpass,
Pushing through its girdle so many cars- flowing in
Parts closer to the sea,
Reminding themselves of the things they see everyday-
And strangers come out and look at one another,
And sell things to one another,
Until there is a perfume of trust in the air- and the birds
And the airplanes seem as fireworks
On an ordinary holiday- and I would have to swear that
Everyone is as brown as a Mexican,
And as beautiful, while I have been missing myself
Trying to recollect the motion of my heart
Even while there was nothing left of it to give,
And the little girls came into a warm
And familiar class with me,
And gave reason with their looks that I can barely even remember.

by Robert Rorabeck

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