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The Storm That Saves

Allison Grayhurst

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The Storm That Saves

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So he lives,

watching himself bemused in the mirror.

He lives his life with flying

pine needles and emaciated toads.

He wants to surprise the careful one

who guards against letting go.

He wants to fall at the heels of morning, dive

from branches into the open mouths of children

first learning the meaning of “mine”. He is willing

to wrap himself in snake skin, dip his

features in tar, anything to reach

within a scalp and raise perception from

its daily doings.

He is the grave digger, the bee in need of a flower.

He is the body’s sex, the yearning

engraved upon each bone,

a doorway in the tenebrous, compelling unknown.

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Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst

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amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Chicago Record Magazine” March 2017

chicago-record-march-1chicago-record-march-2  chicago-record-the-storm-that-saves

http://magazine-record.blogspot.ca/2017/03/possessive-this-vice-i-keep-is-like.html

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You can listen to this poem by clicking…

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