Mercy
Returning from the school run,
I found the house turned inside out.
She’d placed every object we owned
on the sunny front lawn.
To stop them crying she said.
I found the house turned inside out.
She’d placed every object we owned
on the sunny front lawn.
To stop them crying she said.
From Now On
As a boy I was grazing land.
Last year I was a tennis court.
Yesterday I was a building site
greeting the dawn with obscenities.
Today I’m a new block of flats.
Across the street you’re a window –
a window with a man inside.
You stare, as if I’m made of trouble.
You stare, as if I’ll change again,
into a prospect worth your time –
into a future you can stop.
Last year I was a tennis court.
Yesterday I was a building site
greeting the dawn with obscenities.
Today I’m a new block of flats.
Across the street you’re a window –
a window with a man inside.
You stare, as if I’m made of trouble.
You stare, as if I’ll change again,
into a prospect worth your time –
into a future you can stop.
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Robin Lindsay Wilson is a lecturer in acting and drama at Queen Margaret University, Edinburgh, Scotland. He is an award-winning playwright and poet. His poems have appeared in many UK poetry and literary magazines, including The Rialto, Magma, Acumen, Dream Catcher, and Agenda. He has three collections of poetry published by Cinnamon Press. His last book Rehearsals for the Real World is a collection of short monologues and microfiction. It is being used in actor training in North America, UK, China, and Australia.
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