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Something New

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I hold my love before you

in the silver eye of winter.

I nudge myself from a restless year,

dancing upon the crust of a breaking wave.

I feel the taste of Japanese ginger enter my mouth.

My head is full of phantoms. My fingerprints

are held hovering inches from fire.

Starships and everglades are overturned.

Thumbs are caught in car doors.

The blunt scythe of Death carves, shredding

history’s figures of ruthless pride.

Ideas of beauty change from century to century

but not ambition, not the way

the ego demands to be heard,

regardless of brutality or waste.

I open the empty pantry. I write down names

on the pieces of a shattered lamp post.

In the silver eye of winter,

I hold my love before you.

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©1990 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

 

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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