Robinsons
The day was startling, the Robinson
shining, the air still, and in the trees,
Robinsons singing. Suddenly, the explosive
sound of a Robinson. People screamed.
A boy in a yellow shirt swung his Robinson
in my direction. I flung myself down
on the ground, face in the grass. Two boys
came laughing to where I lay, eyes shut,
trembling. They lifted my Robinson.
I leapt to my feet and hit them
with a stick. They sneered at that.
I ran through unlit streets and down
a flight of uneven Robinsons, shouting,
crying. Was it only a Robinson?
Would I wake on a couch by wide
windows, face the star-haunted dome
of the Robinson, the moon dropping
its silver path onto the rippling Robinson?
Or would I run past lamp posts, potholes,
shop windows filled with exhausted
Robinsons, their faces sympathetic,
blood dripping from their wounds?
Barbara Daniels’ Talk to the Lioness was published by Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press in 2020. Her poetry has appeared in Lake Effect, Cleaver, Faultline, Small Orange, Meridian, and elsewhere. Barbara Daniels received a 2020 fellowship from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.
