The end is almost here,

rises like a blessing

like a storm, demanding

my commitment,

to go inside, hide and pray.


The end overthrows

the engrained pattern, arrests

the spread of illness and holds

the future like a tiny turtle in an egg,

struggling out of its shell.


The end is an escape route, a mind

losing consciousness, asking to be caught

before the body lands on unpolished

concrete floors, deprived of a buffer, asking

for a soft act of grace, a reminder

that love exists even under the executioner’s hood.


The end is happening like forgiveness happens,

a miracle stronger than duty and grief,

strongest of all efforts –

a clean slate, consolidating

each action, blanketing over

every direction

to and away from home.



Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst



First published in “Borderless Journal” May 2022

 Poetry by Allison Grayhurst


You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


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