Robin Robertson

(1955 / Scone)

Wedding The Locksmith's Daughter - Poem by Robin Robertson

The slow-grained slide to embed the blade
of the key is a sheathing,
a gliding on graphite, pushing inside
to find the ribs of the lock.

Sunk home, the true key slots to its matrix;
geared, tight-fitting, they turn
together, shooting the spring-lock,
throwing the bolt. Dactyls, iambics--

the clinch of words--the hidden couplings
in the cased machine. A chime of sound
on sound: the way the sung note snibs on meaning

and holds. The lines engage and marry now,
their bells are keeping time;
the church doors close and open underground.

Comments about Wedding The Locksmith's Daughter by Robin Robertson

  • (4/24/2016 6:19:00 AM)

    I find this poet's work very enigmatic. I have read several of his pieces and are mystified by most of them. Hey ho, maybe it's just me. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: spring, together, home, wedding, daughter, time

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003

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