How The Moon Steals Her Light Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The airplanes roam the earth as I make a home for
Myself:
The fires burn across her lips, and the beasts with horns
Trumpet like wedding day gems through the snow;
And down from there we sell Christmas trees
And fireworks,
And the Ferris wheels leap torpidly in their belligerence-
Her world is dressed in a surplice slathered
By tallow,
And when she goes out into her yard, the waves lather
The shingles,
And the otters chatter like birds in the waves,
Laughing up to her as they lie on their backs
Seeing perfectly and enjoying how the moon steals her light.