The bough breaks

 .

and dreams collapse uncushioned

like the smile that forsakes me

and the wonderful illusion of things past

but never lost.

For here I cut my antennae down

and kiss the pyramid on my grass,

blessed by the end result

but never by the happening:

I know the world

and it needs forgiveness.

For here the smell grew toxic

and the glass filled to overflowing,

but the grime inside never got better,

though polished every day.

For here I cradle my body to sleep,

the long way down is the only way down

and we are sold by the scars upon our throat,

by the longing discarded that never knew it

could end

and by the only relationship we are all

bound to have – our stronghold with or

not with

          God.

.

.

Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

First published in “Crack the Spine” issue 64, and “Crack The Spine Summer 2013 anthology” under the title “For Here”

http://www.crackthespine.com/2013/09/summer-2013-anthology.html

http://www.crackthespine.com/2013/05/issue-sixty-four-contributors.html#more

http://issuu.com/crackthespine/docs/issue_64

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

.

A Newly-Patterned Fingerprint

.

It’s the end

of my kind,

the last of my line

unfolding. And then

all of it will be different –

both the edge and the enlightenment

both the things precise

and the things undefined.

All of it that was smouldering

will be set ablaze,

and beauty and grace will be overflowing

like a drip-drop dream pure as reality.

It is the end – the place of no more new beginnings,

a place where the perfect light cannot fade

or grow too bright, and where ironic timing transforms

into an integrated, balanced life.

.

.

Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Boston Poetry Magazine”, 2013

http://bostonpoetry.wordpress.com/tag/allison-grayhurst/