The Dim Lit Zoetrope Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Gladness over the waterfall where the horses
Run-
They run in circles beneath her: they make a whirlpool
Of the air,
As they are busy in a tangle of manes
In their business,
As they lose definition, polishing arrowheads:
Just a brown ring now and a great fire between them
Cause evolution.
We all sleep inside the church, waiting for our parents
To come down,
But the business in those airplanes has become
Lighter than the wishes of candles,
And their very bones are flutes so now they look
At all of these highways as ribbons
Of petrified discord, and they hope the sea will come
Over us, and through the orange groves
And the copper fields- and give us all to her union
To reflect the dim lit zoetrope dancing through the heavens.