Of A Celestial Township Poem by Robert Rorabeck

This is a family alone, on a cattle drive through the
Sea,
Each one a passenger more beautiful than me,
With the great nebular cloud banks escaping from the
Ajar capsules of their senses:
They move in steps of Earth, the sun is the backlight
For their titanic zoetrope,
Behemoths in the glooms of a preschool of a galaxy
Still forming,
Each angel a vesper, taxing the lengths of his yarns:
And suddenly there is life,
As her eyes form a brethren in her morning,
The yokes of a breakfast crackling in the kitchens of
A bad outlaw
Who smoothed over the eccentricities of a celestial
Township too young as of yet to have any misconceptions of
Any god.