Forest Fire


Forest Fire


Faltering in this season

on the hook like a sandpiper

never sure when the mountain stops

or if my sedentary position

is really a bird in my hand

or a dream I cannot force.

Where I crawl from ignorance

and dry despair, my mouth is finished

with kissing, finished with speaking

its voice of obscure ecstasy.

Because it is finished, it is night

and my plight is solitude.

I have lost my home

and clothes of wild colours.

I have lost and cannot gain

a chance to govern the crowd within.

My foliage is painted. My sun is slaughtered,

but still so much heat remains.



Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Clockwise Cat, Issue 31, Clockcat Orange Spring/Summer 2015”, June 2015

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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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