The sun on garage roofs
gives the gull a warm winter’s
bed. The leafless tree that meditates
so glorious against the sky,
is witness to a household of grief and joy.
The book that sits on top of the television
has carried over a million souls through,
and morning is on my toetips like
a ballet dancer’s favourite shoes.
On the wayside of the road a small
toad has found its grave, as the sewer drain
gurgles an indifferent refrain.
Tiny things congregate and share
their food as young women walk
with their pleated skirts, readying children for school.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
.First published in “Minerva’s Housecoat Writing Forum” November 2015
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“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.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.