In The Hours Before Poem by Robert Rorabeck

And any numbers of them are here too:
And they look up as the first light of day returns
So that they can now see what
They are doing- held over from school-
Their bright muscles the song birds of
Evolving dwarves- their candlelight inside of
Trucks,
Like luscious ribaldry tipping the pinpricks of
Arrows inside quivers
Jostled through a woods that one can hear the
Traffic besides:
It goes this way, and it goes that- while the stags
Molt the successions of their unnamed kings,
And the terrapin enjoy the foliage beneath them,
Their table lit my moonlight-
While the fairytales still slumber, their mouth drooling
Over unseen things deep in the hours before
They have to wake up and go to school.