Allison Grayhurst




In the gravel hole

slumbering in cold fatigue

open, and open is tomorrow

never arriving. But pale and pasty

sickness in my mirror is all I see

when I look at my changing body, changing

again to form a great wonder.

Weak as a broken limb, my mind

is empty of inspiration and I am drifting with this seed

from day to day waiting for the sting to pass

and leave only a larger belly and joy

of what (in time)

                 will be.



Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Thirteen Myna Birds “, June 2017



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius…

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