The dog stops barking after Robinson has gone.
His act is over.
The world is a gray world,
Not without violence, and he kicks under the grand piano,
The nightmare chase well under way.
The mirror from Mexico, stuck to the wall,
Reflects nothing at all.
The glass is black.
Robinson alone provides the image Robinsonian.
Which is all of the room--walls, curtains,
Shelves, bed, the tinted photograph of Robinson's first wife,
Rugs, vases panatelas in a humidor.
They would fill the room if Robinson came in.
The pages in the books are blank,
The books that Robinson has read.
That is his favorite chair,
Or where the chair would be if Robinson were here.
All day the phone rings.
It could be Robinson
It never rings when he is here.
Outside, white buildings yellow in the sun.
Outside, the birds circle continuously
Where trees are actual and take no holiday.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Weldon Kees Poems
Analysis and Comments on Robinson
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Robinson here.
Commenting has been disabled for now.