Her High Horse Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Scars vanish in
The spokes of a hypnotic
Bicycle-
My eyes have been
Drinking in the canal-
Dragon girls in hoop
Skirts
Light off fireworks-
Flirt with
Rattlesnakes
And dragons small
Enough to fit
Underneath loose stones-
There is a parade of
Dare devils in the sky-
They are never coming down-
They are flying far enough
To touch the
Colorado Rockies-
Beneath them they are selling
Baseball games
And drinking wine to
Pass the time
And a girl flirts with a boy
And another mother comes down
From her high horse and touches the ground.