By
Allison Grayhurst
What I Shine For
Smile like a caterpillar
curled in the light
and then plucked into bird food
by an unforeseen flight.
Smile under siege
for all the dreams owned and lost
and re-owned as an unrelinguishable part.
Smile and deal with what is crushed
and with what is not
but instead has sprouted a
bold beginning – a tree of strange scent.
Smile but never let it fully out
because the days spin weary
and the white has faded from the walls.
Smile, confined like a pearl where
it is set.
Smile and accept yourself
forever hanging
from this thin translucent
thread
Another Level
Buzz from the wind cloud,
over the cable lines
and the heads of barn owls.
Shadows are bleeding through the brick
until they seep indoors, pressing in on the furniture.
I know the pattern on the ceiling,
I have witnessed this road so many times
before – to be twisted and toyed with
until finally broken – freed
of the false trap,
the inauthentic hold that holds me
in its manic, brutal indifference
like a fly in a jar looking for air-holes.
Thank you for that jar – to remind
me of the difference between atmospheres –
between common kindness and the evil like pinpricks
that sticks absentmindedly in the cavity of the throat.
Thank you for showing me the carelessness of those fixed
on this world and the generosity of others
that numbs my day-to-day pain
until I am admonished, awakened and ready to soar.
From out of the cave we decide
and then are divided. I choose you.
Make me good and brave – enough
to outshine this phyllo-dough hell.
Yes, thank you for the Jar and the reminder. And thank you for the thread. Two poems that enter the human condition.