Her Sweet And Sundry Land Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Tomorrow is Diana’s birthday:
And she made the woods silken, and she made the
Grottos good,
And even while she was doing this she banished the
Old gods to their hidden neighborhoods;
And she trash talked
And gave politicians everything they really wanted,
Walking off the path
And making love to the wolf, while I cried alone in
The valley she had already attended,
Alone in the aloe of dying scuppernongs all underneath
The echinus in the armpits of aspens:
I sang to the rivers that ran after her, they also crying
For what they had to loose,
And the fireflies got all funny and so did the canoes:
All the trappers in the prairie,
All the undertakers in the land, gathered together in
A horny procession and followed after her birthday party
Where she was blowing wishes somewhere
Even further across her sweet and sundry land.