In That Touch Of Clouds Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Soft in that touch of clouds: dying a bachelor alone
At a baseball game
Without the touch of his dogs- while beneath his
Casket and Snow white
The terrapin are yet waiting patiently from their
Logs for happenstance to deliver my mother
To them and the alligators:
Pregnant with my youngest sister, and upside down
Beneath their shells, she will only have so much
Air to breath, but it will be the Christian god that
Saves her and keeps her healthy for next
Week: and when the ravens come their mouths will
Be busy with stolen things to decorate the Christmas
Trees that we will sell underneath them-
As the tourists cloud the goldmines- and they find out
Things that they never had- and the brown skin of
My muse is clouded over my hummingbirds and
Lactating unicorns, all just as busy as tourists to find
Out about all of the sweets that I am sure that she
Ever had.