In The Classrooms Where Nobody Goes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Beautiful as a young woman lost in the
Daydream of a boxcar between the bosoms of
The mountains—she might as well die here,
Like song birds collecting their hearts into the snow—
Their sweet voices failing to attract a mate—
So only now the echoes are calling for survivors—
Hibernations in the seeds of petrification—
Like babies in jars—and rubber chickens falling in love—
In the classrooms where nobody goes.