Like A Family Of Hungry Bears Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Kissing the termite’s bottlenecked prize
On the highest shelf perceived by her eyes:
The planes go up and up until they get
Nose bleeds:
As if the sun was saltlick and they the speckled deer,
They kiss the sun:
Their throats taste like fire, and then they go down
Again at night:
Their bodies fold and cool like paper grasshoppers:
I suppose that is how it is:
How it begins and ends, and the fates we have in our own
Mailboxes,
And the turbulence of dreams that fall asleep and compose the
Shadows,
That seem to tent your house- Alma- like a family of
Hungry bears.