By The Sands Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Before there was another sound
Bivouacked into the tree tops, the moon sang
To us:
Pretty echoes, like friends she had pulled up
From the ground,
Albino crocodiles who watched us kissing at the
Zooâ€"
The last lines coalescing across the spaces
Over which the airplanes flyâ€"
Their wings the thread of stitches bringing together
Our wounds to be healed for
Christmas- into just another afterthought
In the life giving day-gone oasisâ€"
Where I once kept dreams of touching you until
They were buried by the sands.