Treading Water

Allison Grayhurst


Treading Water



I hear the wild birds

sing beneath my skin.

Too many bitten souls,

walking by, bursting

with anguish.

The moonlight

is an avalanche, pouring

through the darkness: a dry ocean

inside the clouds.

Life is so generous

with its gifts, but these hands

like razors slaughter the sky

with world-worn



Bare feet on grass,

feels only the stones.


Who craves the perished sun? Do I?

Do I love for nothing but death?


To be blinded by ecstasy,

to feel the tears of wonder flow

to hunt for the colossal Self . . .


I walk through the dust-ridden morn.

The wind splits my shell:

It enters. It knows





Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst


For Every Rain Cover 5



Published in “Chicago Record Magazine” June 2017




You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


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