Each Of The Peninsulas Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Wearing a baseball cap to
Disguise identity,
You stood barefoot
In the shade
Cast from the nude
Lamps of the
Trailerpark;
But you grew up and
Were blessed with all the
Amphibians
That crowded the stadium
And sang through the
Rains
That united the cats,
Collecting them in the cinderblocks
With the moths
Where we perennially
Sold Christmas trees
With the Mexicans- your
Uncle amongst them-
Making love to other women,
Carolling and sending the
Zygotes to the chimneys- until
He understood that there
Was nothing that
Could not be loved by him-
Abandoning his loneliness to
His wife and children,
And caressing each of the
Peninsulas that were
As close and as easy for him as
Stepping stones.