The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:11pm
I am dripping in Diamonds
oozing Gold from every pore
radiating Silver with My widest reach
My Words carry
My Weight
When I die
I will be entombed
with
My Endless Scrawl
at
My
Feet
The Hawk Corner Room 5:30pm
Years ago I was housed
in a big white living room
— a doctor’s quarters —
over-looking a busy highway
— too busy for Me —
as I lay on a long white couch
for the day, or weeks even
in My Transition from hospital stays
to this room, The Room Of My Arrival
here on The Hawk
with a big wide window
over-looking
the sustaining ocean
of Survival
The Hawk Deck 7:54pm
Out on My Deck
with the porch lamp lit
to shine on My Page
I hear roar upon roar
from The Ocean
I cannot see
but I know It
to love It
& It is near enough
for Me
The Hawk Deck 11:11am
I stand before My Railing
in the calm
of this balmy winter day
The Chickadees call to Me
down in the scrub spruce
— A Crow alerts His Friends —
while My Kettle inside
boils
for A Second Cup
* First Cup of tea in My 18,000,000 Metre C2 Rowing Mug
The Tomato-coloured Couch 10:22pm
I sang in My Kitchen
with cats like children
underfoot
potato steam
rising high
happy to cook
happy to clean
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22pm
Oh sweet rhythm of The Sea
how You bathe The Right Side Of Me
in Your Effervescence
coming through My Shaded Window
and to My Left, I have My Husband
and He is My Husband
with His Hand holding Mine
and the table light out
so I can listen to You
in The Dark
Barrington Passage 4:05pm
Two Geese Honked O’erhead
“Your’s Is An Ungainly Love — ”
Flapping Toward The Moon
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:11pm
Nearly every morning
I gear up for My 4,000 Metre Row
on My Concept 2 Rowing Machine
with computerized clock:
My Columbia Shell Shorts
Sportex Sports Bra
Joe Fresh Sleeveless Grey Under-shirt
Anklet Sox from Eliza
& Old Nike Sneakers
make Me —
into The Basement I go
to put Classic Vocal Trance
on The Hulk (My Husband’s biggest computer)
& warm up with four rounds each
of personal exercises
I wipe down the C2 bar
on-which the seat slides
& strap My Self into the foot rests
I pull the handles
& focus My Vision on the in-out motion
of the chain
& watch The Clock
like a Hawk
for 11 Minutes & 22 Seconds
— take a clocked break upstairs —
— drink from My LIFE Glass —
& go back down to hit
22:22
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:00am
I hear the roar of The Cape
through Our closed bedroom windows
a deluge of rain last night
leaked through the front door
I’m sitting in bed
waiting for Hunter
to bring The Coffee
He’s already fed
The Cats
Joanna Gilman Hyde 