I cry out throughout the night.

I cry for the thousands due to die

who still remain unclaimed.

A slow step through misery, with moments

intermittent of a pure turquoise glow.

A gradual waking into loss and the definite

abyss of absolute letting-go.

Mid-sleep panic that wakes

me with its red tentacle squeeze

crushing my mind,

and the steady breath I need to endure

another tomorrow.

I cry out but I keep it contained –

my flesh without hope

my spirit committed to this sacred duty

as the rest of me is battered, broken-branched

bearing, feebly carrying

one collapsed body, now another.

Copyright © 2024 by Allison Grayhurst

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Read whole poem:

https://allisongrayhurst.com/my-mothers-sky/

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