Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

BASEMENT STAR

The Hawk Basement 7:13pm

The Silver Star I spray-painted

in The Hawk Basement

is now lit up in an Evening Ray

of Sunlight from a small West Window

— lit up in three panels

or vertical bars

meshing with the top three arms

of My Silver Star

–

in The Time

it’s taken to write this

The Bars, cylindrical in form

have moved over to the right

by about four inches

& I will sit here

on My Rowing Machine Sliding Seat

no matter how long it takes

for My Silver Star to become

vacant

& glowing on Its Own

The Magical Little Fellow

The Hawk Kitchen 4:54pm

The Littlest Man has shrunk

to the size of a peanut

— the bearded old man I saw

inside every peanut I opened

as a kid —

I’ve cracked His Nut

& peanuts aren’t nuts anyway

they’re legumes

The Littlest Man

Barrington Passage, Nova Scotia

I smelled a glimpse of You

below the spruce bows

on The Trail — the darkened part

damp with early spring

I smelled You there, briefly

& by Your mossy essence was told

“Don’t hold on — I am here

I am where You are

in Your Sensibilities

Your Tactility

Your Taste.”