The Hawk Portico 5:50pm
I have fallen in love
with the spirit of the sea
encroaching as it does
upon the scrub spruce out front
and behind —
I’ll take them any day —
they house the birds
I thrive upon
they become enmeshed
in the early morning sun
and mist — outlining each branch
as if it were a star
how I love the wild here
the unleashed surf
and even, yes even
the occasional car
or truck
traversing the pavement
of My Southern Boundary
to The Atlantic
The Hawk Portico 2:22pm
–
The waves speak to Me
not as a neighbour would
but as a mother might:
“Shhh, Joge, Shhh
Everything Will Be Al-right “
–
The birds speak to Me
of the waves beyond
as if the chirps & calls
& singular silver notes
are accent marks
to the surging shoreline
–
The fog speaks to Me
through the echo of its horn
semi-distant
complimenting
the readied speech
of melodic birds
& the steady rush
of tide
–
The insects speak to Me
landing on My Pages
as if in observation
of My finalizing penmanship
telling Me to go ahead
“Soak it all in and
let it all out”
Joanna Gilman Hyde 