Heavy As Any Ache


Heavy As Any Ache



We cannot

hang in the grip of this cloud

for long. The waste

of bad habits, concealing

kindness with a show

of wit. Sarcasm as fatal

as a cut throat or plain as

a child’s cry.

Hearts stuffed with

hollow match-stick crimes.


Counter clockwise the sun spins. The moon

climbs the back of an angel, breaks

her thin spine.


You look the other way, look for a hero

rising from your hands, for a rainbow

in my flooded eyes.


It cannot be done. We cannot be more

than mortal.



© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst




Published in “Our Poetry Archive” November 2018




You can listen to the poem by clicking below:




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