REMNANTS
by Joanna Gilman Hyde
The Hawk Portico 5:46pm
I hear The Chickadee
& an outboard motor
& think of My Mother
My Mother traversing the waves
to get out to Mc Nutt Island
A Place I swore never
to forget
yet It has caused Me pain
& grief when She died
but I own Her house no longer
merely some land
which My Children
are destined
to inherit
Joanna Gilman Hyde 
“The sweep of time
Brushes it all away
In the fullness
And emptiness
Even the bits
That stick fast”
(These lines are from a poem I have yet to post.)
This is beautiful. I will treasure it.
Thank you. Keep your eyes open for the complete poem, which will probably be posted in the next few days. This section just seemed to be an appropriate comment on yours.
Thank you Ben. I look forward to the complete poem. The verse you’ve selected here is also appropriate to what I’m going through today with not having heard yet from My Daughter who’s supposedly trying to find a wayward copy of a manuscript I wrote sixteen years ago and then shredded in 2011, much to my regret.
I think you know about that — it inspired your movie idea.
I have been following the story of your attempts to uncover a copy of your manuscript. Fingers crossed.
Your support is greatly appreciated. I am now about to post a poem about the Book titled “Sam.” Title comes from a parrot I had when I was eleven whose wings I tried to clip, and ended up improperly clipping one wing only so that he was still able to fly in my bedroom (I don’t know why I didn’t want him flying – he was relegated to my bedroom only), but with the one wing clipped he could fly only in circles. Then I had to give him up to a neighbour because it became too difficult to get him across the Canadian/US border each summer.
I find myself feeling very sorry for Sam ‘s disability.
Do Indian Ringneck Parakeets’ feathers grow back? Does anybody know, asks the lady who shreds her book, only to have it resurface, much to her delight, two years later?