Shroud The Moon
I see your eyes
float like balloons
through the giant storm.
I cradle your blanket. I cry
on the carpet like a child,
all in privacy, between rooms
& walls. All for the farewell too
real to speak.
The world will not compensate,
will not hold the hope to get out
of this hell for long.
It will empty my pockets of
your key – make every minute
a dangerous bite.
There is a cold bird screaming down
our chimney. There are rats
under the fridge. The rain echoes like
a mountain cry. You will not
love me like I need. You will not & I will not
Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “Communicators League” June 2017
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.
“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.
“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.