The Beautiful Forest Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Crippling luminosity make its aurora along the
Long trunk of a lustrous snake as
It goes up a mountain for a drink:
How long will she be its cradle,
As it maneuvers underneath the bowers and
The elk,
The white trees in an albino’s sorority
Withered up from where
The fires scarred her cheek:
She will let him climb, legless, getting to
The monuments of her occultism’s gardens
Only to send the beautiful
Snows down- and keep him for
A while beneath her gaze,
While the pilots hover above, leaping
Above her candle flame and back to their
Little wives;
But even in their beds, they remember that moment
Looking down at her elevated gardens
Where such much life mingles in the sub consciousness
Of the beautiful forest by which she clothes herself.