Like Clockwork Skipping Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Pillbox of hammers upon hammers—multitudinous,
Exponential—missing items of the missing heroes—
And in the morning, as bright as yellow,
The busses overspill with school children,
Wayward and yet knowing their destinations;
All at a loss as they travel out upon the field—
What weapons will emboss they shoulders, what shields
Both big and round—
They do not know how defeat their enemies,
But for the next four years they will have to learn
To confront them, as their hearts work like
Clockwork—skipping over their fears like chess pieces
Making for the safe angles hidden in the invisible wings
Of angels that seem to sleep forever and forever
All over that town.