As We Walk
.
I spent an hour listening
to the grey and cooling sky, and the blackbirds
that gathered low.
We are but gestures sown
by particles of love, desire and greed.
Few are one tapestry, most are a bit of
all three.
There was a plague in my eyes
that has thinned my expectations, but
I am better.
Being in love this long is like a voyage
underwater, swarming with glorious and
dangerous beings.
You will always be the one to hatch my breath,
the catching flint when I am shipwrecked,
and the good thing I can hold up willingly to the light.
We have been shown there is no grave,
only the mourning. We have been shown
it is the aging in front of each other
that makes aging wonderful.
I no longer worry about what I am going to say
because there is you, with the scent of autumn
strong in your hair.
.
.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
.
.
First published in "The Artistic Muse", 2012
Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC
As We Walk
.
I spent an hour listening
to the grey and cooling sky, and the blackbirds
that gathered low.
We are but gestures sown
by particles of love, desire and greed.
Few are one tapestry, most are a bit of
all three.
There was a plague in my eyes
that has thinned my expectations, but
I am better.
Being in love this long is like a voyage
underwater, swarming with glorious and
dangerous beings.
You will always be the one to hatch my breath,
the catching flint when I am shipwrecked,
and the good thing I can hold up willingly to the light.
We have been shown there is no grave,
only the mourning. We have been shown
it is the aging in front of each other
that makes aging wonderful.
I no longer worry about what I am going to say
because there is you, with the scent of autumn
strong in your hair.
.
.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
.
.
First published in "The Artistic Muse", 2012