November 6, The Hawk West Desk Window 9:35pm
I saw The Pain
of His Parents’ Separation
flash across His Teenage Face:
six years later
when to My Son I felt I could confess
a poisonous love I husbanded
too long
am husbanding still — now My Daughter
runs Her Mother’s Risk
of another broken home
the one Eliza’s been homesick for
all Her Life
The Hawk Dining Room 11:11am
I stand in The Dining Room Window
My Right Arm crooked against
the back of a chair —
I gaze out to The Grey Ocean
slightly stooped, Me that is
and contemplate the remainder of My Life
however many days
The Hawk Living Room 9:22pm
I have an Alien growing
inside Me — He’s attached
to My Left Lower Ribs somewhere
I feel Him vibrate & tumble
when I sit at a desk
or even in a chair
talking to a friend — no
I have never felt Him
in Other People’s Presence
He is with Me when I am
alone
The Hawk Hallway 8:18am
I catch The Silver Sheen
upon the water
& wonder what the day
will bring
I prepare My List
for Home-coming Daughter
& wonder not that My Heart
still sings
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:40pm
What if People
have been pounding out mountains
for aeons
building pyramids
cities all over the globe
& filling oceans
bucket by bucket?
Joanna Gilman Hyde 