Things I Must Learn
To speak like I should
in the wayfaring night, to
hold your hand when the shelf cracks
and the books are all read, when the fridge
carries only last week’s fruit.
To lean my head on your heart and
let you speak your need, instead of curling
under the blankets like an angry, disturbed thing.
To kiss your lips when nothing is going on, when
the dried flowers crumble to the floor and
the guitar strings have snapped, when summer
is only a month away and the city prepares in the same
To touch your arm when the shower curtain rips
and a spider’s eggs lay behind the bathroom mirror.
To be kinder than I’ve been,
to wrap a hand around the back of your cold,
To take pictures of you
in the afternoon, loving you better
when darkness inevitably descends.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “the chicago record magazine” August 2015 and in “Wicked Sixe’s”, Fall 2015
Also published in “The Writer’s Literary Muse”
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.
“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.