By Allison Grayhurst:
By the last leaf changing
and the voice of rivers calling . . .
by the presence of an
a great light is born – a hero
that doesn’t respect the likes of heroic glory . . .
by the silent drinking land,
by the cramp inside the joints
and the laughter done under the table,
the words were left alone
and the favour at hand was first
cherished then expelled
like a worn down shoehorn
or a once-lucky horseshoe,
and the number love
was etched on every hand
(but love was only symbol, not
substance) the bluejay cried
and anger approached
(but love was for the brave, not
the worthy). The aspirations never hooked up,
did they die.
Allison lives in Toronto with her husband, two children, two cats, and a dog. Apart from writing poetry, she loves to sculpt – working with clay.
Over the past twenty years my poems have been published in journals throughout the United States, Canada, Australia, and in the United Kingdom, including The Antigonish Review, Dalhousie Review, The New Quarterly, Wascana Review, Poetry Nottingham International, The Cape Rock, Journal of Contemporary Anglo-Scandinavian Poetry, and White Wall Review. Her work was also included in the Insomniac Press anthology Written In The Skin , while her book Somewhere Falling was published by Beach Holme Publishers, a Porcepic Book, in Vancouver in 1995.