Watery Stroke
Pink washed horizon
seeps into dawn like the pull
of My Heart to Sky
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Pink washed horizon
seeps into dawn like the pull
of My Heart to Sky
Eye have painted The World
Blue
on the anniversary
of My First Date
with My Children’s Father
when We picked strawberries
and drank champagne
and imagined
living
in Nova Scotia
“I think such and such”
has lapsed into
“I feel like this or that”
spoken by the younger set
Eye had a dream
of Treena’s Hair —
back to normal
dark brown
cut short
and cute
Eye am living
in The State of Relief —
I will not be contstrained
by the formation
of even having to write
in Haiku
The silhouette of My Scraggly Apple
with Its new three leaves
looks like the edging
on some of My Paintings:
blobs of lichen and lines —
drips carried
off by the end
of a paint stick
Eye wake before the sun is up
I go to bed before it’s down —
am I following the path of light
or is it following Me?
Eye watched The Moon
escape The Clouds —
the veil of its delicate
clip
to be released
above My Bowl of pink
and gold beneath
the accent of its reach —
only to disappear amidst
the haze of upper
streak
My sun emerging:
opposite of dead ember —
new flare of all life
Joanna Gilman Hyde 