In The End Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Lighthouse mating with a Ferris Wheel,
Stayed nudity revealed to the nomadic contraptions
Caracole in their whimsy
While bicycles lay dismissed atop of rooftops
Beneath a sky of clay
That seems to be falling down impregnating the belly of
The ocean- stars that dim and pulse speaking
Their codes to the blindness
Through the orchards to which the valleys sing,
Both with their own wombs, lonely,
Fertile and overstacked beside the little towns of
Their brown men in the middle of nowhere
It happens- and cars are ants:
In the sky, lions feeding on airplanes until they
Tumble down to light the candles of winsome birthdays-
As the manmade lights fall in love with nature,
And she kisses them, and turns around blindly,
To send them off with a sword for the forest-
To disappear in the end.