Grief
My !3! Children
R as strong & beautiful
as the flock of Herons
EYE just witnessed landing
on the heights of My Scrub Spruce
horizon
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My !3! Children
R as strong & beautiful
as the flock of Herons
EYE just witnessed landing
on the heights of My Scrub Spruce
horizon
My Daughter Eliza
is getting ready
Eye presume
for her trip to Africa —
Tanzania — did Eye spell that right?
for the wedding of a lifetime
and She picked out her own dress
and shoes
oh — and her brother Peak
is going !2!
Last night Eye went out
with My Husband’s Girlfriend
and boy is she beautiful!
Her long black hair
is really hair extensions
but she babies her hair —
Her eyes are large
with those famous arching brows
but best of all —
her face shrinks
into itself
at her chin
and Eye am inspired
to sculpt
Her Portrait
Today would have been
My Brother’s 56th birthday —
he died at 45
innocent on a jail house floor —
My Beautiful Brother
conceived in Gabon
when Our Mother was ill
He was born during The Cuban Missile Crisis
and took that to Heart —
It coloured His outlook
of fear
though He was brave at six
when I threw His shiny red fire truck
down the cellar stairs —
He was brave at eleven
when I pushed Him off
the bow of Our Mother’s Molly
and He was brave at seventeen
when I told Him “No”
after he asked, “Don’t you love Me?”
He played the clarinet & saxophone
and made up stories about two clowns
named Jane Rane and Rank Raunk
while I pretended in a baby voice
He was “Uncle Howie”
and We played “Mail”
under the bathroom door
He followed Me like a shadow
jealous when I first married —
Our Mother had Howard give Me away
He built Me up with His Devotion
all the times I was ill after Our Mother died
and I slammed Him down
into the ground of Pine Grove Cemetary
in Shelburne, Nova Scotia
wailing on Our Father’s Shoulder
Note: The ghost of My Dear Brother haunts a part of My House — My Second Husband’s former Library where I installed a memorial to Howard with a painting of poppies the heavy frame of which warped the day I hung it there.
In My Tidy House
The Word of God
lies stuck against the back
of My Broom Closet —
It, The Word, is in poster form
tucked away
for only Those Who
dare to clean
or to hang up an extra coat —
for My Closet
holds a rod
For The Shag Harbour Incident’s
51st Anniversary
I wore My New
Royal Blue Jumpsuit
bra less —
Eye pulled It off
Good Morning Glennis:
Just want you to know that Eye read ALL of your work. Eye love your simple descriptions of life events, traumatic and happy. You are a very good writer. Eye hope you read this. Eye hope to visit New Zealand some day.
Joanna
across the flagstone driveway
where Eye would find Fool’s Gold
My Father’s Father Bobby Hyde
constructed a stone play house
to match the stone dwelling He built by hand
named “The House In The Woods”
Remember: The Play House
was only high enough
for children
and My Mother tole painted the cupboards
on either side of The Children’s Fireplace —
My Parents had a birthday party for Me
there, seated at the table and kids’ benches
built by My Mother’s Father
which She painted too in rich blue
with daisies to match Her Cupboards
Eye Rose Today
@ The Time of My Birth
to hear the subtle waves
through My Bathroom Window —
It’s still dark out
but I write by My Beside Light
and decide to return
the lipstick Eye chose
to wear
for My Opening
Joanna Gilman Hyde 