Out of Dreams

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Out of Dreams

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            Like clay brick eroded

by rain, thoughts sear

my better part, calling me

to the altar, to kneel and

discipline these fantastical wanderings.

            Like an egg yolk pierced, I spill

my substance flat across the frying pan.

            I live in the time just before dawn.

I curse the crocodile but praise

its authority. The clock strikes seven

and I have lost my sparrow for good.

I have waited for the change, wished myself more

than this life, making a remedy from imagination.

            I will walk the straight line as an experiment, walk

to feel like a buttercup flower tied to the forest floor –

satisfied with its display of tiny splendor, at peace

with its place amongst the aged trees.

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© 1992 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Outlaw Poetry” October 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/out-of-dreams-by-allison-grayhurst/

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Published in “Chicago Record” November 2018

https://magazine-record.blogspot.com/2018/11/years-before-his-resurrection-on.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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