The Choice

by Joanna Gilman Hyde

This morning Eye presented My Self

with the choice of writing

at my little narrow writing desk

bought by Dr Blair over ten years ago

or, thanks to the weather,

out on my deck rail

in the sun

in my bathrobe

in the unseasonable breeze

with my copper kettle going

for whichever place:

to write that Eye have compartmentalized

my poetry journals, numbering 64

in chronological order

on a bottom oak shelf

in the former library

of Dr Blair

The choice Eye have made

is to write here, now

in my 65th journal

supported by the damp deck rail

and by the sounds of birds

and by the sight of the Atlantic ocean

which Eye call home