A Day To Recognize


A Day To Recognize



Fields of

mystics invading

my mind.

My womb is full

of mercy’s fine touch. Ideals

call and create

gusts of sobs. Sombre

smooth skin

and smoke

spiralling into

the air.

Sudden glory,

swift as

a dagger

and then

nothing at

all. My

tongue is

curled into

a knot –

What is

the point

of speaking?

I hold

my mouth

in the

stance of

song. I see


in the sky

brushed by a wink






© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst





First published in “Raven Cage, Issue 26” September 2018






Published in “Our Poetry Archive” November 2018




You can listen to the poem by clicking below:



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