I Was Living


I Was Living


I was living out of the fold,

floating like a dead fish over the waves.

I was waiting for the phone call

that would change the colour of my house,

change the way I held my pen

and the amount of shade in every room.

I was listening to the slow click of the furnace,

listening for a voice behind the shower curtain,

for a resolving answer before midnight.

I was unhappy about my choices,

about the burnt shutters and the so-little-left

for my art.

I was there. I have yet to recover.

I am fumbling in the emergency room.

I hear it is time. I hear the trees talking

while I sleep.



Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Eleventh Transmission – Issue 1”

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“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.



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