Perched and listening,
a point of war.
Several days I lived in a hole,
shoulder shot by the blast
of a rubber hammer coming down.
Clear as pacing, counting
the clock ties, permits overdue,
you stayed like a waning moon, unobtrusive
in a cloud-cloaked sky –
the only light left to have. Somewhere in
that shady disaster I bought a dream,
almost new, with you, carefully walking
the wet rocks. I fell asleep and you stayed, documenting
my close-to-death dawn. Fishing me out of the fishtank,
releasing me into wide open waters.
Middle age is best, sea-worn but still pursuing.
You stayed – an island never claimed by reptiles,
a freight train, moving slow enough to chase and board.
Thank you for staying, for your fervent destiny
choke-collar-chain and your eyes
of tender extremes. I lay it down.
The lizard with the leaf.
The primal mysticism I built my struggle on.
I lay beside you, knowing you climbed many stairs
to find me, and you stayed.
Copyright © 2014 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Bond Street Review Summer 2015” August 2015
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“Her (Allison Grayhurst’s) poetry appears visceral, not for the faint of heart, and moves forward with a dynamism, with a frenetic pulse. If you seek the truth, the physical blood and bones, then, by all means, open the world into which we were all born,” Anne Burke, poet, regional representative for Alberta on the League of Canadian Poets’ Council, and chair of the Feminist Caucus.
“What a treasure Allison Grayhurst is. Her gift? To unfold for us life at this intensity of feeling and revelation. Who knew truth and beauty could be so intertwined and so passionate?,” Taylor Jane Green BA, RIHR, CH, Registered Holistic Talk Therapist, and author of Swan Wheeler: A North American Mythology, Swan – A Planetary Mythology, and The Rise of Eros, 2014.