Upon these days I spot
some children, hair like
silken straw under a daisy sun.
Three so in love with the wild bush
and humorous song and with each other –
with strong affection they spend their
mornings in exalted play.
Arm around arm, the oldest only five,
they know friendship that separates the lucky
from the hoards of thirsty travelers, they know
the embrace of childhood connection unmarred
by fractured homes.
Two joined by blood, one by fate, each
by the unseen link of tender recognition.
I watch their actions of natural glory
and feel their laughter like swallows circling
above their small heads.
Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Grease Monkey Literary Forum”, November 2015
You can listen to the poems my clicking below:
“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so…
View original post 136 more words