The Hollow Secret Places Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Cold up in Colorado and beginning to be overrun
With thoughtless spirits,
While above the tree-lines the footsteps of iconoclasts
Only prove that they are alone,
And winter will be coming all too soon;
But they still with their ethereal butterfly nets wish to
Catch the industrial bellies of the airplanes
Moving their cargos of
The planes of solid bones: they go leaping like princesses
Over the beds of the continental divide;
And they see all of the hollow secret places, that I have
As well so wished to find.