The Transformations Of Unicorns Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Poem of smiling death,
As the cars ride- up and down, in the veins
Of the concrete leviathan that sleeps in
Our home:
Where the fairytale of your heart rests
In the swampy armpits,
And you kiss your husband and say your
Various Amens- and the baseball games
Show up on Sundays during
Church-
Where your grandmother died- pretending to
Be in a purple orchard because of
All of the lilacs never minding the sleeping
Bears-
Or the rocket ships, hallucinating above
The ice-cream trucks: there they were
Together and performing after school
At all times of the year:
And I loved her- and I loved her even while
She keeps no purpose for me-
But I remember the apiary of her body
Working in the fruit market-
And there is no use describing her to anybody-
The fairgrounds of my heart will come
Around again, but she will already be gone,
Taking the candlelight of her lovely belief with
Her, stealing with the waves
And the transformations of unicorns underneath
The moon.