Over The Shoulder-Blades Of Airplanes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Placed in the soft abutments over
The shoulder-blades of airplanes
Where the thunderstorms live in their
Ethereal parks—
Running and leaping in the feral
Joy of its helium circus:
Little girls I don't know sometimes look
Up from their bedrooms towards
And they see where their mothers have
Never tried to lift them—
It is a holiday up there filled with wonderful
Cremations and the promises of
A metamorphosis that will take them
Away from school and out of their very lives.