Remembering That They Love Poem by Robert Rorabeck

They keep their show on the busses until they get to
Disney World
Where they have to forget so many things they
Have learned about life—
The pyrotechnics sing to them on weekend holidays,
Promising them they will be in love forever—
Above them, where there are no mountains—
The sky is a river of voodoo—
Where old insects reconnect with exoskeletons they
Thought lost upon the bark of the paper tree—
Just as the knights dawn themselves for
Jousting atop of ostriches
In the tournaments of worlds with racetracks of
Purple moons—I can hardly believe in them—
But the sun comes up dog-tired come
Morning, and my parents
Peel off the dusky tracks to sleep in the horse trailer
Just as the sun is floating in its yellow parapets—
And the children turn around and go back to school—
Aspects of the forgotten day lingering on their
Features—
And, yawning, they regress into their wayward classrooms
Trying their best to remember the things
That they have a hard time remembering that they love.