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A Month Before Birth

Allison Grayhurst

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A Month Before Birth

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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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