Poems by Mebane Robertson

Linda #1

I feel I’m dancing alone
Though I’m stretched out on the sofa,
And my pregnant wife
Is reading across from me.

She says I need a rest.
That I’ve been too busy the last few weeks,
But I feel lazy
And write poems out of this freedom.


Linda #2

Being needy is unattractive.
I try to seclude my need.
I try to contain my need in a box
Decorated with ribbons and bows
So that you might think it is a gift.

And when you’re not here, I’m too here.
I spend hours on the sofa Sundays
Just waiting for you to call.
And I would call you
But pride trumps need.


Linda #3

In her belly the baby’s dropped
She walks slowly as below the Mason-Dixon.
Passing a patisserie, she must have a doughnut.

In the warm end of December she craves
Rare vegetables in balsamic vinegar
While the baby kicks her in the ribs.

I love this woman & this child to be.
I love her ample, waddling straddle.
And what do you know, sun’s coming out.


Linda #4

Like men with signal flags
It was my job to bring the thing down safely.
We had walked to the hospital
Through the trails of false labor at 4 a.m.
I slept till lunch the next day.
But this, borne of reality, was not a test.
My wife scored high percentile in everything.
She dilated like an astronomer’s eyepiece.
I got lost trying to find the bathroom.
Then returning,
I drew the curtain on my wife,
The only one to whom I was not a stranger.


Linda #5

Walking out of the house again
My wife and friend
Out to get some coffee and a trim
Calls me lazy and awry.

I seldom brood.
It’s just her way, I tell myself –
Half-warm, half-cold, this December morning
With the barometer falling.



Poems by Mebane Robertson, past contributor to Green Hill and author of the poetry collection Signal from Draco. Many thanks to Mebane for these poems, which mark a significant departure in style for him.