Coastal Skies Poem by Mark Heathcote

From fauna to deserts, bone-dry
Coastal skies are all around us, changing
From morning till dusk in the sky
The star's apparatus is like the big top circus
From lions to boisterous clowns
To high wire, trapeze acts without nets
Watching seagulls side-slanting glides
While a motorcycle circles
An interior iron globe to applause
On a destructive path again, of course.
Like if it should stop for any amount of time
The whole thing could collapse and explode
And our two worlds would collide.
Like the sea and the sky, and nobody
Would ever know what was ever you and I
What was ever desert or fauna?