Thieveries Of Words Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Placeless joy, like love birds—
Little hearts beating like a quarter’s prizes:
Wishes leap from the wells inbetween
The malls and beating forever—
Making love over the heads of shoppers
And well wishers and gift-givers:
The fly around looking for anything they can
Steal for nests—
To fly away and have children, pets for
Stewardesses—that will eventually leave
To other swamps and forests
And cul-de-sacs—
But in their busy hearts the banks of their parents,
And the trophies of their lovely thieveries of words.