Colour comb the light.

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.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.