But A Star In Its Shell Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am nothing but a star in its shell—
As the plagiarists and the tourists return home—
As the lost kites get stuck in the apple orchards
Or the orange groves—
And there is a dragon or a kitten about,
As it is the same thing—
And the grottos of the obnoxious selkies that
I have already told you that I have seen while
I was skipping school—
That there isn't another rule to this road—
And the only unicorns that exist are handled by
Blind men—
While, there it comes, that I have travelled home
To her,
A girl whom I've figured out will never be my muse,
Even while she is providing milk for
My child—and the winter sings—
As the fireworks hibernate in their caves, as your eyes
Populate all of the green billboards
Until this way comes again.