the drive that brought me here,
your face and the windows you leave ajar,
the way you hold a hand to my furrowed brow.
I forgot the feel of your lean body
curled against mine, to take the garbage out and
rake the stench from our yard.
I forgot I am not only one, but more because of you
and our own. I was a dead bud
that with your unwavering love
discovered how to feed, remember
and finally, unfold.
Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Three times nominated for Sundress Publications “Best of the Net” 2015, she has over 900 poems published in over 390 international journals. She has twelve published books of poetry, seven collections, nine chapbooks, and a chapbook pending publication. She lives in Toronto with her family. She is a vegan. She also sculpts, working with clay; http://www.allisongrayhurst.com
