The Hillsides Of Stars Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Scars on the archipelagos outside of schools—
And inside, the band looks beautiful as it
Plays along the grass,
Falling the borders of the contours of the
School until they fall in love with the boys
Vanished off the architectures of the baseball
Diamonds—and are resurrected in new
Fonts for a while underneath the bleachers—
The meretriciously sad places that
The stricter teachers have never dreamed off,
Where one or two students have planted their
Shark-ravaged feet over the
Epitaphs of only a handful of arrowheads—
And for a moment, this is their world now—
Striking upwards like a match on a holiday,
Beautiful though mentally handicapped and
Trying to cheat death out of his last dinner—
A tortoise stares at it all
As the hillsides of stars fall down around him.