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