A Circle Of Lights — Summary

What were those lights in the sky that night, As we returned from the place We were never supposed to be?

Dots of red. Dots of blue. Dots of ever-changing hue.

I wasn't supposed to know, was I? That we were being followed, That deep in the woods a creature had Made its home amongst the bramble And disintegrating wood patch, Pacing impatiently.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Like a pendulum axe swinging down, Invoking fear and confusion

But you wouldn't be tied down Like the rest of them, To have your life ruled by the clock, Tick tick ticking as the pendulum came down Upon your naked throat

Hell was other people Hell was complacency and conformity And you would damn them all Before you ever fell into that trap

No sir No rat trap for you

What were those lights in the sky that night? And how long were they looking for us Before they found us?

Show the whole poemHide the poem

Learn Poems app

Try the Learn Poems app

Everything from the website trainer, and more: new exercises, voice recording and sharing, reminders, quick review.

The poem opens with a question that returns at the end: what were those lights in the sky? The speaker and a companion are coming back from a place they were never meant to visit, and the red and blue dots overhead suggest something unexplained, maybe even alarming. Then the speaker realizes they were being followed, and that a creature was pacing in the woods nearby. The broken, stretched-out "back and forth" on the page makes that pacing feel restless and slow.

The poem then shifts to "you," someone who refuses to live by the clock or follow the crowd. The pendulum image ties time and routine to a threat at the throat. The line "Hell was other people" echoes a famous phrase, and here it points to conformity and complacency, which "you" would rather damn than join.

The mood is uneasy and paranoid, with a note of defiance. The closing question suggests the speaker feels hunted, and perhaps that escape was never complete.

Read also

More by C. J. Robinson

All poems
ContemplativeC. J. Robinson

The Closet Monster

Because of this, I've long since been a Fan of small spaces Many times, I've made my bed in the Nooks and crannies of those people
AngryC. J. Robinson

When I Grew Up

When I was your child I learned The saltiness of my own tears, I knew Which hours of the day And night
ContemplativeC. J. Robinson

The Top Of The Giant Oak

I was a boy when I first climbed the Oak, Whose branches were so vast They seemed to stretch out for hundreds Of feet in all directions