I Walked through Haida Gwaii
Like Mary Poppins
Cleaning as I went
Along the down-trodden roads
Named Hippy Hill
& 6th Avenue
Happy in the mountain mist
And very light rain —
I will wear my grey wool coat
And black fur gloves
Again there someday
This morning I picked up the pieces
Of nearly one third
Of “Stratospheric Universe ”
Blown apart by severe winds
While I walked in Haida Gwaii
In light rain.
Now I will make more and more
And more
Out of my handfuls
Out of my tubfuls
And crop the remainder
To contemplate an island
Is to contemplate The Self
Individual and alone
But for the sky and sea
And those who dare
To live upon its striking shores.
This Morning I Walked
Before a gleam of gold
Between 2 Peaks
With My Son
And His Dog —
I watched the swath of mist
Between the inlet & cove
Of undulating scapes
& bulbous islands below
Today eye lost
A breakfast twenty
Somewhere between
Peak’s vacating sublet
And the convenience store
Somewhere amongst
The ramshackle outfitting
Of the mountainous contrivance
Of Northern Town Living
Eye wish I could say
“I slept like a log”
But managed to have
A magnificent dream:
In a public place here somewhere —
A marina for instance with shopping
(There is no place like that here)
I watched in awe
With babe in arms
(My first grandchild yet
To be conceived)
An avalanche into the sea
Complete with smoke
And flying debris
And one giant Balancing Rock
Which landed geologically
Briefly
Before tumbling
Away from me
After the tepid hot tub
She lay decorously along
Her scattered floor
Elbow against an old hairy pillow
To talk of her latest dumpster dive
It’s still going on
In slow motion
With Eggs Benedict at noon
And a hike through old growth spruce
To a misty mountain lake
Where I yelled out
“Happy Birthday Peak”
To listen to it’s echo
Forever
I had wanted to build
A silver bird —
Eagle perhaps
With a golden EYE
But not having the place
In which to cast
Out my desire
I withdraw
My clause
Christ wasn’t brought up
But it was ok
To talk of how pigs are killed
When their brains are missed
And how they drink the blood
Of their buddies —
This guest had brought
Peanut butter Haagen-Dazs
And when her story was over
She got up to do the dishes
And handed out the spoons
Joanna Gilman Hyde 