The Nakedness Of Sky Poem by Robert Rorabeck

When do you call to me,
Unicorn- Now something I hardly believe in:
The world series is over,
And you’ve gone back home to
The woods
And your children: what color are they,
Or can you even possibly imagine-
How they love you,
How you love him- and how your eyes fall
Across him- across the railroads and
Circus tents in the middle of the
Night:
What do they know, and how can they survive here:
Maybe they will become lost forever,
As the silver trains buckle through Spain-
Or maybe they will fall upon someone
Definite-
The lake remaining so exuberantly quiet,
As the airplanes undress into the nakedness of sky.