The Hawk Window Seat 11:22am
I Am Advertising My Self
But I Am Not For Sale —
I’m Free!
–
The Hawk Living Room NOON
She Cried, “I AM IN LOVE!”
& Then She Died
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:07pm
Black Jesus sits in The Snow-Sun
with Her Serengetis on
— a new stylus in Her Silver/Onyx Pen —
She’s on Her Tomato-coloured Couch
a cushioned platform
from Which to make Public Declarations —
Coffee House plays
What will She utter Today?
What will The Grown-up Version
of The Little Child point out
for The People’s Participation —
a crack at understanding
Our Innate Sensibilities?
Our Lived-in Sensitivities?
“What are You waiting for —
We are Alive and Our Humanity
is Our Most Precious Gift
Given To Our Selves
BY OUR SELVES”
The Hawk Window Seat 12:06pm
The North End of The Cape
is a study in contrasts —
Its Dunes snow-covered, It lies out straight
against The Gradated Blue
of The Hawk Inlet
at full tide
The Hawk Window Seat 11:08am
I have just done an Heroic Deed:
I pushed Dr Blair’s
Old Black Lincoln
out of a snow bank
and on Its Way to work
leaving Me behind
in snow-covered pyjamas
The Hawk Living Room 9:30pm
I’m standing, hovering
above My Mini –
fireplace — My Candle
abra in the center
of My Chinese Coffee Table
I just had to write about
it, here in the dark —
no Other Lights are on
I am writing like a blind woman
Yet I have just had the
satisfaction of eating
a President’s Choice
Decadent Chocolate Chunk
Sandwich Cookie
with My wool-socked feet
up before the
flames
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:20pm
The Fall Of Joanna Gilman Hyde
Has Been My Greatest Climb
I’ve Found The Words I’ve Needed To Use
& Boy I’ve Made Them Chime
note: Death of Mother, Elizabeth Walden Hyde, March 27th, 1993
The Tomato-coloured Couch 10:22pm
In The Evening of My Living Room
I caught the very last glow
of My Little Chinese Tea Light
which, when I looked at It
through the top of My Glasses
provided Me with a visual recount
of The Shower Of Silver Lights
which befell Me
in all Its slashing, flashing
Glory on March 31st, 1993
and Which I have faithfully recalled
to My Mind’s Eye
in the broad light
of every day
since
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:41pm
I’m not trapped by Black
— that’s Black Jesus —
I’ve thrown away all
My Black Clothes
& I’m in Grey now
I still write in books with Black Covers
& The Black Ink comes leaking through
making Me sit up straight
legs crossed
Right Hand
adroitly holding
My Onyx Pen
tipped in Silver
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:22pm
Mrs Blair sits in Her Hawk Living Room
furnished sedately but for
a staircase painted red —
She ponders the significance
of Humanity
and wonders if the music on Coffee House
is telling Her things
She should pay attention to
–
seltzer sits fizzing in Her LIFE Glass
on the glass coffee table
and She’s about to eat
some leftover pasta salad
before contemplating
Her next
3 seconds
Joanna Gilman Hyde 