January 30th The Hawk Window Seat 5:56pm
From My Bedroom Window
The Sky View to The North West
affords, at nightfall,
a scape of salmon-coloured clouds
low to The Cape
glowing above the stalky spruce
with The Cape Light shining
flashing, emitted
from The Luminous South
January 30th The Hawk TV Room 4:30pm
The Space between My Ex Husband’s favourite shed
& a distant house
lays out the edge of Sky meeting Cape
with grey fuzziness of flurries
from a low lying bank of cloud
soaking into gold
against the dark swath
of dimming shore line
January 30th The Hawk Kitchen 2:30pm
I have seen The Hawk
again —
have I written of Him before?
flying in His full stateliness
outside My Kitchen Window
from The Scrub Spruce down
to The Shore
and back
again
January 30th, The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:28pm
I Am A Woman
For Whom Future Is Now, Now
Past Now Is Now Dredged
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:25pm
How Many People
Hear The Twenty-two-second
Fog Horn Interval?
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:25pm
How Many People
Get To Sleep Under The Flash
Of A Lighthouse Near?
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:04pm
Every Instance of My Life
Every Moment before I was conceived
has added up to where I am
right now, in this New Moment
writing in the dusk of My Favourite Living Room
on A Piece of Land I own
on An Island where I feel welcome
in A County I have traversed
in A Province I favour
in A Country where I am proud to be A Citizen
on A Continent which identifies Me
on A Planet I Love
and will Love
until I die
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22pm
“Hey Everybody! This is God
yes, G-O-D
One of You, All of You
here, as always, to tell Us
We have a correction to make —
in case You were wondering
I am female —
52 years old in Body
infinite in Mind:
Caucasian North American
with a psychiatric history
not permitted to carry a firearm
but I can wear a bullet-proof vest
to guard My Castle-by-the-sea
where I live with My Husband
the very popular Dr Blair
& My Daughter, the very beautiful Eliza
& seven cats —
I’m not kidding around —
on March 31st, 1993, after four days of no sleep
induced by the death of My Mother
I had The Shower Of Silver Lights
crash down on My Head —
I thought I was The Second Coming Of Christ
but I didn’t want to give Christianity
that much credit
so I simplified My Title
My Essence
into Those Three Little Letters
& no, I don’t knowingly control the weather —
it controls Me
& yes, I believe in eternity
& The Sacredness Of Human Life
OR I WOULDN’T BE HERE!!”
“It’s Time To Hear My Rallying Cry
to sort out Our Miseries
Organize
Our Desires
Our Abilities
forget Our failings
Uphold Honesty
for where has Honesty
gone?
It’s Time To Apprehend
My Leadership —
I offer up My Self
for I am One Human
Who has seen The Light
& Knows It To Be
The Light Of This World
Our Precious Little World”
The Hawk Dining Room 5:20pm
Cami, My Husband’s Ginger Calico
— petite —
sits perfectly on the window sill
looking at a figure walking
up a neighbour’s drive
while I look beyond
& above
to The Windswept Swells
rolling into shore
The Hawk Kitchen 9:15pm
The Pink Residue
of My Husband’s Berries
& Ice Cream
lining His Dark Ceramic Bowl
poised to go into
The Emptied Dishwasher
is no longer a dirty dish
but A Modulated Receptacle
filled with One
Gigantic
Universe
Joanna Gilman Hyde 