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