Listening to the Talk
By the window, opening eyes
to the rival of dreams and
midnight in the nerves
like shell-shocked mothers
So much was lovely before
knowing the meaning of money
and the blazing rain clouds of responsibility.
We ate our food and let our coffee last.
To bed with no mercy or fun in the eyes
but slashing the ball held as a child and
talking of baking, homesteads and depression.
There are dogs left in yards at 30 below
and children hearing grownups complaining
about their spouses and the burden of having children.
These are the ways shadows are born,
clinging like squid to the heel of life.
Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Vine Figure Poetry Page”, November 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.