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l.k. robinson


l.k robinson lives in London and has had two poetry collections published in the UK. He was founder & director of tall-lighthouse press, retiring in 2011. He has recently returned to poetry, inspired by an endearing trans-atlantic correspondence.

on silence

(the frost place, franconia, new hampshire)

at dawn as light
eases down the darkness
you strain to listen
for movement outside
               nothing stirs
so as the day passes
you go about your business
making notes         in the soundscape               
               with copious shots of coffee

and later,
where evening closes in
you sit at the porch
then wait
               eager for every sound
that drifts from the forest;
     a bird rummaging undergrowth
     the snap of a branch in the wind
     the dry-rain symphony of falling leaves

but all of these are nothing
without a car       passing on the road
and footsteps from the stony path

available light

The weather
they warned of
arrived just before 1 a.m
so I went outside to stand beneath
the overhang of trees where raindrops
were sparse and heavy.

Next door’s dog started barking.

It was too dark for detail
so I came inside and as I dried myself
you called – let’s sleep, then wait
for morning, wait for available light,
to enter the garden together
to see what damage is done.


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