Altered Behind City Gardens
We walked behind city gardens.
He was singing
his hunger like a spear
through brightened houses and
He was saying to me – keep gold
and wild – as he lifted
a finger, pointing
above the ribs,
between my breasts.
How that day I became
his, as though gone into
his light and into his terror –
How that day I felt
a new blade of grass
beneath my rugged ware,
with every step,
found my country whole.
Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “The Peregrine Muse” July 2017
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.
“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.
“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.