Robin Robertson

(1955 / Scone)

Leavings - Poem by Robin Robertson

Still sleepwalking through her life,
I wrap her up
and we go through the snow that fell all night
and all through this Christmas morning:
her trainers barely denting the whitened lawn, her
two strides for every stride of mine.

Leaving her home
to the warmth of the house
I step back out, and see where my footprints turn
and walk through hers,
the other way—following the trail
of rabbit and deer into the unreachable silences of snow.
I can bring nothing of this back intact.
My face is smoke, my body water,
my tracks are made of snow.

The next morning is a dripping thaw, and winter
is gone from the grass—except for a line
of white marks going nowhere:
the stamped ellipses of impacted snow;
everything gone, leaving just this, this ghost-tread,
these wafer-thin footsteps of glass.


Comments about Leavings by Robin Robertson

  • (4/24/2016 6:16:00 AM)


    Quite an enigmatic poem, not too sure what to make of it which, I guess, is the whole point. (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Shakil Ahmed (12/3/2015 3:37:00 AM)


    I step back out, and see where my footprints turn
    and walk through hers,
    the other way—following the trail- - -Beautiful poetic lines, thanks for sharing
    (Report) Reply

  • (12/3/2015 3:31:00 AM)


    Christmas and snow we never had that for years..i wish it will fall this year (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 3, 2015



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