The Hawk West Desk Window 6:55pm
I Saw The Silver
Before I Left
Beyond The Cape & Islands
It Filled Me Up
With Desire Spent
I Came Back
To Thunder
The Hawk Corner Room 1:43pm
I opened The Corner Room Door
hoping to see A Rainbow
& saw instead The Layered Sky
blue-grey
above The Scrub Spruce Forest
& The Neighbour’s End
of Our Lime-green Hedge
fluttering beneath
& out to The Ocean
One Wave Breaking
as an accent mark
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:22pm
I stare across
to My Neighbour’s Canadian Flag
stretched out & shivering
in the gusts
I feel My Veins quickening
& know too hard
The Eye is self-trained
to soak in The Flickering
& feed It to The Blood
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:26am
Sliding My Glass Door
Bird Song Carries Me Aloft
Yellow Bird’s Clear Ring
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:25pm
Tonight I’ll tell You
what I don’t hear:
the peepers & the waves
are closed out
by south windows shut
against a breeze too cool
— the north bathroom window is open
partially
but not a breath of sea
comes through
— an elderly cat, encouraged
to stay on Our Bed
& purr
has refused the invitation
All that’s left
is Hunter rattling
the spherical wire
inside His Jug
of night time protein drink
consumed
The Hawk Deck 1:25pm
I have moved away
from My Childhood
into the backyard
of Maturity
where birds occupy My Attention
& a southerly breeze ruffles the hedge
behind My House
I look to The Sea
while The Indoor Cat
— an older one —
briefly visits
June 8, The Hawk Living Room 10:00pm
I’ve Caught The Moon
In My Living Room Sky Light
Arriving
Through This Late
And Early
Evening
I See Its Thin Beam
Shining Down To Our Balcony
Through The Spindles
Defining Shadows
Of The Luminous Streaks
Of My Age
The Hawk Window Seat 9:43pm
The Sun Is Rising
& Setting Somewhere On Earth
The Logic Fails Me
