In The Liquidated Heavens Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Choruses of Mexican girls at first following and
Then riding atop of trains-
Proceeding to the north, and the greater basins
Of Colorado
Who promise sheltering them- across so
Many ditches
Closing their eyes so they cannot see the kidnapped
Bones of their
Latchkeyed brothers-
Unclothed, hoping to be sheltered in the new
Colors of its bloody-nosed banner
As if spring were breaking and running down
The mountains-
The eggs of hypnotized chickens, magnetized
In the bathtub of her wrists, as
Windmills turning in the liquidated heavens,
Cry chandeliers.