Those Unreturning Waves Poem by Robert Rorabeck

In this conundrum there is nobody to buy
Ice-cream—the entire town has vanished
Like apples from their trees:
The day laborers have gone back to trailer
Parks—
The amusements have migrated
And the waves have receded—some brave
Men still believe that there are mermaids
Down in the grottos,
But the lighthouses have willfully blinded
These heavens to the skies—
The little girls' fathers are never returning
Home again,
Having given themselves over to those
Unreturning waves.