Damp jewel in the hair-lip of grass or <br />Hanging from the obnoxious skin of a cypress- <br />Petty witchcraft that evaporates <br />And the clouds plays hooky- until another sunlight is <br />Gone, mumbled into the vocabularies <br />In the west where the sugar cane burns and the dragons <br />Make love to bare breasted virgins- <br />While, around here, after dusk, after all the Mexicans have <br />Gone home from cleaning our house and mowing our <br />Yard, the washing machines still do a strange pirouette <br />Trying to mimic the great tornados they hear so much <br />Gossip about.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/damp-jewel/
