Secret is the stone.
I am listening and I can hear
the pattern of its speaking.
Twice I dreamt of fireflies,
twice my dream labour came to naught.
Blind in the grand scheme – signs
that never manifest,
and my pillow has a hole in it, big enough
to hide my emptiness. I’ll stare at the stones –
veins of emerald green, patches of sherbet green.
The morning is calm. Morning is best loved
alone.
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.
Eunoia Review 