The Whale Bones In The Harbor Poem by Robert Rorabeck

By the jeweled crown,
And the whale bones in the harbor:
The way the crow looks up,
Perched on the stones- and hold their
Eyes like cold
Jewelry the children walk underneath
Unassuming of the words
I might use for her,
To fill up coffins- to flood and
Hold over;
And shadows are in the park;
And the dog has no master, but it goes
This way, and eyes the waves as they loll:
And they seem to be coming back to her
From far away.