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Harmony

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If I make it into the warmth,

vibrant as a crushed flower, catch

when the sidewalk children

throw a ball, rake leaves

with my hands and scrapbook

the best of them,

then this shell could own its sensitivity,

and not just the underbelly, then the

painted road arrows will point

like divinations for the white butterfly and I

to follow – expectations, destinations shed

for a fullness of joy,

coral-coloured angles pursued –

outside our bodies, in sync

inside our bodies, aligned.

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Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “The Galway Review” January 2017

Allison Grayhurst – Three Poems

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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