Of Its Lover's Deity Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now I am growing up and they are making love
Either way,
Like nimbus over the fruit market,
Like the sounds of lips and teeth eating an apple
In the shadows of the prayers before bedtime
Above which the angels sing
Like lighthouses, or the birth of steamboats over
Legendary rivers:
Pressing their own promises upwards the way ceiling fans
Blow on the elbows of paper airplanes:
This is a fantasy, but it is building itself, and soon it
Will be selling Christmas trees,
And making wishes of its own promises like model
Battleships making love to green bottles with so many paper
Cries for help all throughout the Ferris Wheels
And uncommon playgrounds yawning and lapping up
The sunlight throughout all of the caesuras of the unforgotten sea;
Or anyways, it buys its tickets:
And then it either rains or it doesn’t, adding light to the sadness
Which is always moving, and dancing in the light of its lover’s deities.