What is it about
the muted proclamations of the surf *
that eye find so soothing
so fulfilling and life-giving?
They are the sound of Eternity Itself
and I bathe and bask in their heralding
* Anchorage Northeast by Howard T. Walden, page 254
For my breakfast
Eye have eaten the green grapes
meant for my X husband
and I have feasted upon
The Silver Light
playing across —
saturating the ocean
before me
Aeons ago eye read somewhere
that more stars exist than all the grains of sand
on all the beaches of this Earth
and aeons ago eye wrote somewhere
that eye did not believe this statement
I believe the stars are finite
but are forever forever changing
transforming into ourselves
Bought this canvas from the UFO museum in Shag Harbour yesterday — it was “mall art” thinking eye would embellish it butt didnt have the right found objects so early this morning eye started opening cans of old paint and this happened!
Eye finished a “painting”
down in my studio
and thought to walk on the beach
alone before supper
but as eye locked my door
and stepped down from my portico
the fog spread closer
chasing me back
into my interior
Joanna Gilman Hyde 