The Hawk Outpost 1:50pm
With The Sublimity of The Morning
with Me making coffee for three
with Eliza baking blueberry muffins
I thought to write of a garden
I was taken to see
by an Acadian Nurse named Emily
Who thought I’d like to walk
across the hospital parking lot
across a curving back street
to a stranger’s yard grown up
with flowers I don’t remember —
but I remember The Walk
& found It, or One like It, noted
in My decades-old medical records:
“Patient enjoyed Her Walk.”
The Hawk Queen Bed 11:04pm
What Does It Mean
To Be Human?
To Top The Chart
One Bell Curve
Of Human Behavioural Spectrum —
To Sit Up There
Like A Star
Growing Into The Nebula
Reaching Out
To Very Vast Edges?
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:05am
I am a very womanly woman:
I feed My Husband His Instant
Oatmeal —
later make Him a sandwich —
supper @ 6:00 —
I buy all the groceries
do The Laundry
& keep The House tidy
weekday mornings I see My Husband
off to Work
where his Secretary gets Him
take-out meals —
like all The Women
The World Over
We keep Our Men
Alive
The Hawk Dining Room 9:28am
…leaving the expanse of roiling ocean
with Silver cascading off
in spray
to move in closer on a neighbour’s drive
— there an illuminated puddle —
the road is wet
reflective
right down to My Window Sash
a Silver
dot
The Hawk Queen Bed 1:42pm
In keeping with The Churning Sea
loud enough to be heard
against windows closed for winter
I heard The Fog Horn’s Note
penetrate My nearness of sleep
The Hawk Queen Bed NOON
I come into My Bedroom
The Privacy —
only to write To The World
–
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:35pm
Dr Blair signs His Papers
with His Gold & Onyx Pen
while I blink on The Couch, tired
looking for My Friend —
My Friend Who came to Me Last Night
and put His spherical rays
in front of My Crazed Sight
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:53am
Last Night I saw
The Aura of Eye
whenever I blinked
& became The Petulant Child
while My Husband went to sleep
I wore Him out
with My Antics
while I tried
to decipher
what I was seeing
& decided
I should eat
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:22pm
I want to put Roses
on My Brother’s Grave
on His Stone
inscribed with The First Bar
of Fur Elise
He taught His Niece Eliza
but I am certain
His Roses
lying there
would blow
away
–
*Howard Talbot Walden Hyde
October 6, 1962 — November 22, 2007
The Head of Hawk Point Road 3:22pm
I have been chasing
down The Sky
along Hawk Point Road
I saw It fall
to The Ocean
in snowy squalls
I got back in My Car
& drove to The Head
where sun rays burst through
above a frayed Canadian Flag
blowing over a contemporary
grave yard
The Hawk Window Seat 10:30am
A fine head of Silver Hair
graces the brow
of My Husband —
He dresses in Jeans
for Casual Friday
while I fix
His Silver Cat Pendent
around His Neck
I fix His Plain Oatmeal
instant with raisins
& cinnamon
while He sits
before His Computer
reading of worldly events
at quarter to eleven
He rises to put on His Shoes
black Eccos from over six years ago
& gets His Coat —
a leather jacket made in China
from over twenty
He kisses Me at the door
before He drives away
in His black 2000 Lincoln LS
to His Office in Barrington
where He attends
over fifty people
a day
Who Love Him
