Like Windmills Kissing The Sea Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Numbness of her beauty in her shell- how I’ve
Tried crying out to her:
A piccolo underneath the bleachers at the end of
School:
And now she comes, dividing from kindergarten,
Losing herself every time she graduates-
Growing husky and calloused
And abused by the heavens- but there she is,
Burning the decrepit chrysalis of her
Religion across the baseball field
When it is still too early for there to be many
Spectators- but come the afternoon, they will be
Selling things across her,
And crossing their hearts even in the sun showers.
There, in the middle of the sport,
Alligators will swear by her middle name,
And the airplanes will lookdown, folding their
Wings- who said they cannot metamorphosis into
Swans as the sun is going down like
A train going into a tunnel: and there she remains,
Falling down and kissing the insects’ feet:
Wishes bouncing off of her like windmills kissing the
Sea.