As Your Sky Opens
I touch your eyelids
not to keep closed
nor to help lift,
just to understand
how such secrets form.
The night’s creatures
rise like needles from the earth,
into the trees, into the throbbing river’s arms.
You have so many days ahead,
so many visions unnamed, ready to be spoken.
Your tears drop like swallows.
Your smile changes the shape of each cloud.
Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “Our Poetry Archive” June 2018
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