On The Overpass
I will wait on the icy throne
as midnight steals my shadow.
All of this is thread
and ceremonial bell, pure pain, an inspiration
that will never come again.
I will wait on the bed, staring into crystal fragments
cured of the hot weather, but still poisoned by
time and how it never stops in spite
of commitment or intensity, in spite of how it makes you
wait and not perish from simple feeling, and how
the house breaks down and happiness is arbitrary, flowers
for a while and then
Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “The Stray Branch Fall/Winter 2016” October 2016