A Poem by Allison Grayhurst

Weather

Walls shake
under the pressure of an ongoing storm.
The storm exhausts the
birds in flight and flings
squirrels to the ground.
The ground is hard with ice
and the lost promise of spring.
Spring, children wait for
under the volatile sky.
The sky is tuned by the fingers of time.
Time cannot give a chance accepted or refused
but is the measure by which all things move and die.
Die, the storm is thinning like the skin of a worn drum,
though leaving its signature on the road.
The road I base all my faith on is under my sleeve
sure of me, regardless if I turn or if I follow.

Allison Grayhurst is a full member of the League of Canadian Poets.  She has over 290 poems published in more than 175 international journals, magazines, and anthologies.  Her book Somewhere Falling was published by Beach Holme Publishers, a Porcepic Book, in Vancouver in 1995.  Since then she has published ten other books of poetry and four collections with Edge Unlimited Publishing.  Prior to the publication of Somewhere Falling she had a poetry book published, Common Dream, and four chapbooks published by The Plowman.  Her poetry chapbook The River is Blind was recently published by Ottawa publisher above/ground press December 2012.  She lives in Toronto with family.  She also sculpts, working with clay.