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Country Ride
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Long fingers like ribs
stroke the sky in mortal shades.
Time, watching trees
planted in fields,
so alone and tied
to all eternity.
Time, seeing the liquid
eyes of cows, and horses
without a tribe, drifting
from grass strand to strand.
And again, the treetops like
sackcloths of autumn orange and red,
take all attention
from the barns.
Dogs in the distance run
feverish
and free.
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Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst
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First published in “ken*again, Vol. 16, No. 1”, 2015
http://kenagain.freeservers.com/CONTRIBUTORS.HTML
http://kenagain.freeservers.com/POETRY.HTML#Grayhurst
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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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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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Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.