Breakfast And Then High School Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Green unicorn replete in the snow fields,
Nurses her foals
Under a massing nursery of clouds- as the horny toads
Watch
Underneath the alligator junipers
Down the hill from my father’s house-
A blind man, he sees nothing,
But hears the wolves at night-
And when they leap to the second story,
To steal away my sisters on their
Hoary backs- no one can tell which
Way they are going-
The moon closes her curtains- and the
Vulpine shadows coalesce:
They go to hidden brooks were tadpoles are
Married,
Where slender fires burn through the
Sisterhoods of aspen,
Like a serpent selecting which one he will
Love,
And give his clandestine knowledge to them-
As my sisters are made brides
After midnight,
But are returned home in a metamorphosis of
Breakfast and then high school-
Nocturnal things that somehow survive during
The day,
Smiling, but no longer believing a word
Their blind father tells them,
As he nails his own thumb to the door-
And they try not to make a sound.