The Hawk Outpost 9:16am
The Striated Clouds
along The Horizon
streak gently like
a watercolour wash
with a glimmer of light
at the farthest reach
low — off line
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:30pm
I sit in My Purple Robe
upon The Tomato-coloured Couch
I write for a living
I write to sustain My Self
Nothing Do I Hyde
I can be read
head to toe
& portend the future
I depict
line for line
in the journal stacks
stored in a giant Birk’s bag
in My Closet
The Hawk Queen Bed 3:10pm
My Love is unknowable
even to Me
It resides, untouched
in the fathoms
of My Mind
to be probed, one day
by Its Object
of
Humanity
December 9, 2014 The Hawk Window Seat 8:30pm
All I ever really wanted
was An Affair
with Dr Blair —
but He wanted Me
to be cured
to cook Him His Meals
to go out on dark & stormy nights
for Gravol
to help let the cats out
& back in
so I grew
into A Doctor’s Wife
for Him
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:45pm
I see forever
the image of My Mother’s Morning
of Her standing
on the furnace grate
beside the windows in the kitchen
of The Valley Cottage House
She made oatmeal for Howard
& Me
& ate Her’s
with a wooden spoon
out of the stuck oatmeal pot
with forced air from the furnace
billowing up Her Nightgown
The Hawk Living Room 2:35pm
Dr Blair makes a striking figure
even in pants from the dirty laundry
— I didn’t get His Jeans dried on time —
so off He went to do a house call
in spotted cargo pants
black leather jacket
& stethoscope in hand
The Hawk Outpost 11:08am
I am faced
with a wintry sky
of heavy cloud
The Waves are capped
with white
against the molten grey
of sea
A check of the thermometer
confirms that I am looking
at a configuration
of cold
Hawk Point Road 2:50pm
The Sun Shines
a variegated halo
over the southern tip
of Cape Sable Island
the land I live on
where I confide
in very few
& get My Groceries
on the notes of Joy Division
The Hawk Window Seat 10:52am
Years ago I left a house
with home-made curtains
& wooden floors
My Children both were babies there
& I was young with motherhood
& early marriage I thought was happy
until the onset of a tumour
inside My Mother’s Head
The Hawk Queen Bed 12:18pm
I see The Deep Purple
of My Prescribed Nap
I hear The Fog Horn
against My Muffled Ear
The Rain is on The Sky Light
My Eyes are strained
against My Note Book
held in The Damp Dimness
of My Sleep-deprived
Afternoon
Joanna Gilman Hyde 