Working with Glory


Working with Glory



In the rich thick salt

of a sea,

gulls gather creating

havoc with their stammering wings.


A dog brushes my knees.

Small pebble shells cover my toes.


I walk to the pavement where

an insect crawls,

seeing purpose there as great

as any mountain climber’s weight and cause.


I follow a madman off the pavement

into the bush, hearing the waking

of an oncoming downpour.


In a raven’s beak descending

a chant echoes into the open:


It brings in rays of maximum heat,

sets my name

               on fire.




Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst




Published in “Our Poetry Archive” June 2018



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.