POST TUB
by Joanna Gilman Hyde
September 21st, 2016
The Hawk Queen Bed, Near Midnight
Was there ever really an age
of Innocence?
The Lumps of Years
hardly matter anymore —
was it when My Children
were Children?
was it when I was
knocked out every night
on ten milligrams of Olanzapine
not knowing in the morning
if I dreamed?
Today marks Week Fifteen
since I stopped It
at The Site of a Rainbow
and I was going to write
a letter to London, England
to a man I treasured
when I was three —
My Mother’s Lover —
He is old now
and wonders if He’s written
His Last Book —
He takes care of A Man
He Loves — Who has Alzheimer’s —
takes Him when The Man’s Institution
welcomes a break —
I was going to write
that on Week Fourteen
I bleached & bleached
the growing blackness off My Deck
to make It look like driftwood —
It came out looking like that anyway
and My Daughter was proud —
I was going to write
that I replaced the old gold handles
on My Kitchen Cabinets
with wrought-iron-looking ones
picked out by Eliza
and what else did I do today?
I prayed for a dog.
I cooked Day Six
of Our New Ketogenic Diet
resulting from Eliza’s visit
and I believe I am better
off for It — though
I wonder about sleep —
the low carbohydrate level tends to rev Me up
Eliza suggests warm milk
with one tablespoon of honey
at bed time —
should I sleep in Her Room
again?
The Next Morning:
The Hawk Deck 10:17am
I slept with Hunter
not before two o’clock in the morning
and woke with a dream
of being about to meet
The Daughter of The Man
EYE LOVE
I changed Eliza’s sheets —
Her Comforter is hanging out
on the line —
and I heard The Rooster
again
before I got up
to make The Coffee
Man, you are simply getting better with each day. From the opening question throughout all of the imagery and nuance of voice to the final aroma of the brewing pot. Loved it. —CC
And by the way, don’t fret the sleep – or potential lack thereof. It’s way over-rated. Use the time to paint a universe and the rhythm of sleep will come of its own accord.
As always, thank You so much Chagall — I am about to pull in the sheets and race to make the beds before Dr Blair gets home for leftover chicken soup.
Your newest links to this as a related post. Re-read it again this morning. It has aged well.
Chagall some of my poems here seem out of sequence. Could wordpress have jumbled them up?
This is great ! You are doing so much ! Congratulations !