Walk

 

 

Then the bitter defeat

was burning like a sin

committed, recognized

and unforgiveable.

Then on a hill, heavy with

weighted down legs and

an injury there, debilitating but

unexplained, the challenge came

to walk.

 

Walk slowly at first, walk like

I can walk even though the reins

are dropped and I have lost my mother,

lost life’s victory over death and the comfort

of an unbreakable love broken,

altered, intangible now as an angel’s skin

or a hope held for decades unrealized.

 

Walk with my mortal burden, stumbling without

a path, a cane or a flat plane. Twist in my ankle, twist

in my knee, swollen, bloated with a hot fever, walk.

 

Face a direction, walk, slowly,

commit and make it my own.

 

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Copyright © by Allison Grayhurst 2025

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Setu” January 2026 (December issue – Author of the Month)

https://www.setumag.com/2025/12/Lit-Art-Culture-Journal.html

https://www.setumag.com/2025/12/poetry-allison-grayhurst.html