LAST LEG
by Joanna Gilman Hyde
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:30pm
I have come through
an oven of madness
I have been broiled
and poked
for The Life of My Daughter
for My Son since He was five
when I made a pact
with My Self
that I would never feel
the pain of the loss
of My Mother
and found instead
the love that sustained Me
through My Temperature Gage
of Molten Silver
and Highest Reverie
I have spoken
of My Vile Nature
black with burnt offerings
of Salvation
for The Masses
yet to come
I am out
on the table
for dinner with My Starving Family
My Ex Husband I loved
in the sun
of Our First House,
a tiny one
I am out,
reposing
to be eaten now
with Mint Jelly
from the shady side
of My Mother’s Well