As wounding as
the stars reflected in
the river, yours is a beauty
too big to embrace.
You are the everlasting miracle
that walks these floors each morning
and day, marveling at every turn.
Your easel is full of yesterday’s colours.
There are songbirds under your bed, and in the closet,
are assorted hats that call to you to try on
and wear down the hall.
You are the syrup on my toast,
the first tulip of spring.
Before you, I was too afraid to dance with freedom,
crippled by a servant mood.
You are the open door where teddy bears
dream and live – a soft, unhindered love
that cures the hardness
overpowering any room.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” June 2017
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Allison Grayhurst intertwines…
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