Descendant Of The Golden Fleece Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sum of the body in prettier words-
Aphrodisiacs, kisses of fire eaters to drunken angels
In the moonlit spotlights
Of suburban parks with tadpoles in
Tears between the grasses,
And virulent lizards climbing up the swing-sets:
Another pretty scene between the houses
And business parks
Like a casserole for the nocturnal creatures:
And for my thoughts,
Wounded between the arcs of the microcosms
And the golden means:
Pantomimes and zoetropes of amber
Dragonflies and cerulean foxes; they say
I will find you here, my love,
Tumbling in the puddings of toddlers—
In a chicken soup of fieldtrips gone into the dusk
Of a weekend,
If you would ever come out into this yard—
And let the ants roll over your barefooted knuckles—
And let the sunlight drape you in the affections
Of its golden circus.