One day I finally knew that I could swim
in the blue of the sky.
That I was as strong as my declaration.
My fears, teachers made just for me.
That there would always be cracks to slip through
times of trembling, shaken awake to fall again.
Then I stood next to the lake,
a mirror of blue sky wholeness,
arms wide with acceptance
I, the problem and solution
dove into
reflection of release.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2019 (rewrite of 2017 poem)
Photo taken on a family trip to Varenna, Italy 2016
Home was a dented silver trailer
simply, without shine inside and out.
The window view of the sea
its evolving colors of cloud and fog
filled her need for decoration.
A square sky painting above the sink
included her in its masterpiece
filled her with belonging
and a soundtrack of constant rhythm
wave reassurance, murmurs of the earth.
Passersby with lipfrowning judgement
downcast looks of pity at her dwelling
would never know her contentment.
She had found her community
between wind and simplicity.
© Ali Grimshaw 2019 (Rewrite)
Spills splattered the walls.
Counters filled with clutter,
multiple piles creating a new geography in the room.
There is a relief to cleaning it all away.
Everything in order. Repair and replace.
The seduction of a new cycle, sparkling clean.
Free from marks of history.
What if we could sit with Chaos
for just a little minute?
Feel the wind in our ears.
Hearing her secrets of cleverness.
To soak in the learning of this undone space.
Before an opportunity is erased.
A past disinfected before she can author her story
from which the plot differs from
perpetual duplicating.
First published on Vita Brevis
she wished to glue
leaves of color back onto the limbs
unprepared for season’s shift
then her dormant suitcase looked up
with eyes of grace, a reminder
of past orbits around the sun.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Leaves play tag in the breeze
as cars chase green lights.
I am the only stillness
in the city this hour.
Living without permission
no need to ask, “Am I allowed?”
The leaves don’t ask to dance
down the cracked sidewalk.
I grant myself this moment
this sunlight soak before
winter darkness.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Painted leaves sing in unison
Unlike music, their song
is soundless harmony.
This orchestra of color
soothes the tempo
an internal pounding
from a day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.
Fall catches me
with muted volume
a serenade of equilibrium.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
It is a continual process to unweave
that which is truth from story. I pull
a thread, remove one line, observe how
the fabric changes, notice the new spaces
breathing between essential threads
that remain, a skeleton of existence
until extracting the unneeded
leaves what is left, sparsely resilient
penetrable light of a future once blocked
by memories tightly woven.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
