I am casting off My Mother’s Houses
I just opened the cupboard door under the sink
here at The Hawk
to dry My Hands on a non-existent towel there
thinking I was in The Shakespeare House
momentarily
but I’m not — that House
went in September 2011
& I am left with The Island
ready to go at the full asking price
by This Friday —
how many dish towel memories
do I have there?
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:00am
There’s a Picture somewhere
of My Mother’s outboard The Molly
resting at anchor in a pool of faded pink
It must be down in the basement
here at The Hawk
what will I think
when I see It again?
There’s A Galaxy
on My Living Room Window Pane
It sits before an old sunset
tantalizing Me by Its Size:
on What Scale is It as Large
as The Galaxies in Space?
on the bacterial level
or the molecular level
or the neutron, proton, electron level?
Or smaller still?
–
Will I ever know The Difference
or is there no difference —
Is It All Relative?
The Hawk Portico 2:53pm
I Open Doors
I Close Doors
I Open Another Door
I Close That Door
I Am An Owner of Cats
composed by WHB
The Hawk Portico 3:00pm
The Waves Today Remind Me
of Children Playing
uneven in Their Tumult
sporadic in Their Breaking
–
Yes, I have read of The Accident
but My Observations
were gathered
beforehand
The Hawk Kitchen 10:38am
A single splash of spray
out My Kitchen Window
evokes a silent prayer
that I may find relief
in The Changing of Hands
of My Mother’s Island Property —
a property I could never see
as My Own —
even if Peak or Eliza
had It — It would still be
My Mother’s
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:10pm
I felt Your Little Black Heart
wrap around Me
as I traversed the rainy Sobey’s Parking Lot
My Hair Newly Cut
You grabbed My Black Bullet-proof Vest
shouting “Live, Damn It, Live”
