The bells of Euclid were ringing
and sunny was the sky.
Wednesday fell through my fingers
like cut grass and tomorrow will pass
by & bye.
I found four blue eggs cold upon the ground
and listened to the crows converse. I walked
a mile in mud and vowed to break one more
I stood beneath a stammering cloud that refused
to just move on. I looked for an omen from the crows
but all the crows were gone.
And when I arrived at my parents’ door, the gate
was up and the locks had been changed.
Like a child in fear, I curled upon a rock and cried,
forgetting the brilliance of buttercups and
the rhythm of my name.
Copyright © 1991 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Afterthoughts” Volume 4, Issue 1, Spring 1997
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.
Ah the loneliness! Wonderful words.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.