We share the small wonder

of intimacy’s beat,

the gentleness of communion,

the hot pang of merging souls.


We move elemental like water

through the boundaries

that cage in

our beliefs.


Dream that speaks without armour.

Sister found

in your woman-flesh

and sheltering smile.


Words we use for hours

are not you and me, but crimes

revealed, skulls naked of skin and brain,

hands left as is – all logic aside.


Inside your blood,

the angels cry,

the fig tree finds

its open stream.


We stalk the endless cycle,

bringing vision

to our mute and lonely





Copyright © 1991 by Allison Grayhurst


First published in “The Affiliate” December 1995


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.



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