On this Dock
.
I hear the white steed
and the fish together
in dark obscurity.
I look at the body of water,
the children weeping to gain control.
I listen for the perishing wind
and declare to it a vigil
of telltale strength.
The journey here faces
the drive of instinct – to buckle
in and walk the safest hallway
or to carry the weight of failure
and still harbour a cry to the fox and a belief
in the many shapes of heaven.
The journey knows its evening
has come and all the beautiful clouds will drop
one by one from the sky.
.
.
Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst
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.
First published in “Crisis Chronicles”
http://library.crisischronicles.com/2014/03/27/on-this-dock-by-allison-grayhurst.aspx