Stand

 

 

I stood

where all things feared

were served with the promise

of this perpetual.

 

I stood

at half-mast,

my energy so recently

abundant, now draining, and

my hopes, mummified, soon

to be buried.

 

I stood and saw what I saw,

but it made no difference.

The light was inferior to this calamity.

Declarations came and went without execution.

 

I stood and said I would not go back,

but I did. I let the fruit spoil,

my own humanity overcome

with a ripe mix

of rage and despair.

 

I stood on a steep slope,

looking for

a soft grassy landing

or a way to stand

with equilibrium.

 

 

Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “New Mystics” July 2022

https://www.newmystics.com/lit/AllisonGrayhurst.html

New Mystics July 2022 AllisonGrayhurst-9Poems

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below: