Stolen Earrings by Rob McClure

Stolen Earrings

Grass explodes from the lawnmower

& the bluejay twinning himself in the birdbath

dreams of feathery heavens

as the green hose spritzes tuberoses

smell buttery under an eyelid slice of sun.

This is, as it were, your life.

You have nothing against life, per se,

beneath this sky white as shanked bone,

droplets feathery wet on your lashes.

People are unhappy in so many different ways

you said, the night we missed our exit,

then, as if by rote, I love you.

Dear heart, how like you

to forgive the thistle coiled about the rose

& the sneaky maid stole your earrings,

sinning the better part of repentance.

Rob McClure's poems have appeared in Poetry Scotland, New Writing Scotland, Poetry Birmingham, Anthropocene, Flyway, Orbis and other magazines. He is the author of The Violence (Queen's Ferry Press, 2018) and The Scotsman (Black Springs Press, 2024).