The Fits Of Weather Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sunlight on a snake in between the
Rabbits and the caesuras:
And it seems that she has the sunlight in her eyes,
Like the birthday candles of good luck,
While the airplanes curl and caracole:
And Sharon never looked so beautiful, even though
Now I hardly have to think of her,
Because I have different pains that are more impending,
And I house I come home to be alone in,
While my pets move in the north, waiting for me with
More faith that I will ever have:
And the snake looks away to other pornographies
Waiting for little boys in the abandoned cars of their
Drunken fathers:
And he goes to her, and they curl around for awhile,
Dancing,
While I wait for the fits of weather that I am sure are
Just around the bend.