I lean out the window.
There is no breeze, no people
on the street. Everything feels wanting,
even the birds with their first morning song.
Cover my eyes. Build me a shell, a desert
where I can wander in without encounter.
I am tired of seeing. I have no need of friends
or of enemies. Only of lovers, pure family,
where trust, tenderness and truth hang paramount
and there is no messy aftermath. I have no need to outline
the disease of the world, where cowards
burn their campfires and spiritual challenge is avoided
at the cost of love. I am tired of grieving
over a miracle that never was.
I will toss these stained clothes and buy a new wardrobe.
It is simple. I know. It is the sound
of a breaking wave or of a dog, finally, let off her lead.
I build this pain a private place. I outlive my past. I am
Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. She has over 450 poems published in international journals and anthologies. She has eleven published books of poetry and five collections, as well as six chapbooks and one e-chapbook. She lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay. Visit her website: http://www.allisongrayhurst.com.
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