


I am again honored to have a poem published by Vita Brevis, The New Poetry Magazine. My poem Rest is up today. Rest is a constant seeking in our world by so many with weary hearts. If you are feeling frazzled, wired-tired and seeking escape then you are not alone. Take time to connect with another human, sit with quiet, or listen to a poem.
Sending love and support
by way of clouds
that surround us all
with protection.
Ali

© Ali Grimshaw 2017

He brings me leaves, one each day
a contrast in shape
varied vibrancy, coral to ripe peach
left on the kitchen counter
until evening arrives at our window.
Held in his palm, this single
donation, color story of today.
Our eyes meet the wrinkles, textured hues, imperfect edges.
Our hands hold a temporary prize between us
a cherishing.
Trees give without expecting
something in return. Thankfully,
so does he.
© Ali Grimshaw 2016
May you find someone to share the beauty of nature with today. Happy Thanksgiving.


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 sidewalk.
I grant myself this moment
this sunlight soak before
winter darkness.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017

Jump, leap, crawl and claw
there is a world outside
the hamster wheel.
You can step off, drop chains of thought
fall into peace.
Your forgotten power, remains inside,
no superhero costume
necessary.
Only willingness, rejection of old pattern,
refusal of squeaky wheel,
one step, to the side.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
Rounded Barcelona 2017

Blurred branches of feeling
the intersection of “Not good enough,”
and “You fell for that again?”
awkward limbs that cross
and cross again in confusion. While inches
of growth reach, stretch toward light.
The turbulent angles discretely covered
by feathered orange deliciousness.
A fancy distraction,
just like my sunglasses and hat
a layer of colors,
the perfect cover up to keep
my crack of failure private.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017

Light does not fall on us equally.
There are hours of gentle illumination, while some remain in shadow.
Random flashes which leave you for no reason at the front of the line.
Or the end, randomly burned, scorched,
with head shaking disbelief. Tranquil dusk light on leaves.
Other days blinded into paralysis, unable to see a way forward.
I remain in a thundercloud waiting room, counting shadows like minutes.
Weatherizing my soul before the next hurricane.
Steadfast, determined in my stance, for a return of the glow
In stillness it will find me.
Sun’s warm hand on my back again.
This too shall pass.
© Ali Grimshaw 2017

Will you?
Fall, drift, yield
hand in hand,
warm kiss of palms,
veins of life intertwined,
before we,
plunge through crispness
to the other side
of golden.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2017