A Month Before Birth

Allison Grayhurst


A Month Before Birth


Prepared to swing the branches,

steady like in days of another year,

when time was mine to pull apart,

to drive depression from my sphere.

But bluish grey is all I see through

these pregnant eyes. I see a change I cannot

cope with, and separation between those I love.

I see my dead father in every footstep and

wish to fade like the autumn leaves

into colours of gold and fire before I become

the earth’s seasonal meat, before I am

further gone down the road of inevitable fate

where I lose over and over the letters of my name,

where my core is chipped and isolation

is my sole companion.

I don’t see how the clock can turn or how I

can be stronger yet against this undertow.

But I bend and bend, and have not

broken, and soon

a child will…

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