Like Quavering Hummingbirds Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Shellfish in the sea equating the ways in which we
Came around the bases,
Or all of the unspoken estuaries which carried or
Received the vanities of our sea horses:
While the grass grew over the
Graveyards,
And I waited to see what the sea would do:
I waited all of this time of paper snowflakes,
Stoking my make-believe altruisms to the windmills,
Waiting to count out the hours
Into the ways I wished to feel her underneath the common
Flight paths of airplanes:
While all of it was waiting again to start to strike out
Even after the game had ended in a rainstorm:
And we waited,
Waited watching the bases of mud, as the school days ended,
And the sun light out, and regressed in its own carriage:
And we stood alone,
Waiting for a miracle, while the evening living rooms
Turned on their televisions- as from their unmoved yards,
You could see what they were doing:
You could see exactly what they were doing, and it all appeared
To be alright- and even the angels appeared to be commuters,
And they stood for a long while like quavering hummingbirds
Upright against their monuments while the presidents
Prayed and the rest of us wonder what it
Was all about.