Their Twins Poem by Robert Rorabeck

It isn’t hard here living with my dog:
Like a turtle, I can never look up, but I get to go home
Whenever I want-
And my head stays dry: I can hold out through a fire
Or a flood,
And I can think of girls who have come and gone,
Sweet little lavender dishes,
Serving delicate and April songs- how they sometimes
Float over my shoulders
Like wishes blown from across the broad shoulders of
A Ferris Wheel,
And they keep on coming- a delightful apiary that
Spreads through the night
In franchises that never have to sleep:
And they lay me down against the brushing tide, and their
Children beside me:
They come and they go, revealing the nature that they
Have slipped from-
They go after the sun: In the morning, they bring their twins.