Joanna Gilman Hyde

The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:27pm

The Sun beams in on Me

through My Psychotic Haze

subsided — I no longer

hear songs on the radio

as messages to Me Alone

I no longer see blazing signs

of futuristic Life & Love

My Halo has vanished

I am “settled” now —

a word the hospital used —

I even heard & saw

A Lone Goose fly overhead

while I shovelled off

the paltry snow

from the front steps —

there too in The Sun —

& The Goose

carried no significance

other than He

must be lost

while I am found