The Hawk Portico 2:00pm
I have the luxury of gazing
out over the azure blue
of The Atlantic Ocean
of listening to The Gulls and Crows
for Whom I must be some small part
of Their World
as They are such a large part
of Mine
The Hawk Deck 11:10am
The Day On The Deck
Is So Still
I Can Hear The Echo
Of The Crow’s Call
Harsh, Yet Circular
Rising In A Crows’ Chorus
From The Scrub Spruce Nearby
Here Beside Me
Perhaps A Buzz Flies
The Hawk Kitchen 4:47pm
The Sky around here
is so dramatic:
The Heavy Greys
of low-lying Clouds
move across The View
out My Sliding Glass Doors
with The Sun hitting Their Layers
— The Clouds, not The Doors —
while I sit on A Cat’s Ottoman
in My Pretty But Humble
Kitchen
watching
A Gull pass over
illuminated in Silver
The Hawk Portico 5:50pm
I have fallen in love
with the spirit of the sea
encroaching as it does
upon the scrub spruce out front
and behind —
I’ll take them any day —
they house the birds
I thrive upon
they become enmeshed
in the early morning sun
and mist — outlining each branch
as if it were a star
how I love the wild here
the unleashed surf
and even, yes even
the occasional car
or truck
traversing the pavement
of My Southern Boundary
to The Atlantic
The Hawk Portico 2:22pm
–
The waves speak to Me
not as a neighbour would
but as a mother might:
“Shhh, Joge, Shhh
Everything Will Be Al-right “
–
The birds speak to Me
of the waves beyond
as if the chirps & calls
& singular silver notes
are accent marks
to the surging shoreline
–
The fog speaks to Me
through the echo of its horn
semi-distant
complimenting
the readied speech
of melodic birds
& the steady rush
of tide
–
The insects speak to Me
landing on My Pages
as if in observation
of My finalizing penmanship
telling Me to go ahead
“Soak it all in and
let it all out”
The Hawk Deck 11:15am
The Birds of My Childhood —
I have Them All Here:
The Back Woods Jay Squawk
of Valley Cottage
The Low Brush Cheep
of The Chick-a-dee-dee-dee
The Harsh Cawing of The Morning Crow
on McNutt’s Island
The Hearkening Bleat
of The Summer Willet
from My Old Jordan Bay
–
These places I will never see again
but They Call to Me Still
The Hawk Deck 9:03am
This has been The Place
of My Full Recovery
from My Mother’s Death
of more than Twenty Years
This is The Place of My Happiness and Joy
with Molten Silver on The Sea
Bird Life, Cat Life
My Life and My Husband’s
–
The Hawk Living Room Window 4:43pm
My Serenity Level
cannot be measured
there is no equipment
like The Blood Sugar Thing
there is only The Sun
streaming in over Me
as I sit on the end
of The Tomato-coloured Couch
with The Window open
airing in The Waves
from The Southern Tip
of The Hawk
The Hawk Kitchen 8:45am
How can I be depressed, even slightly
in My Beautiful Kitchen
with The Sun beaming in
& My Husband staying home from work
to be with Me?
–
9:40am
I have on My Thick Grey Robe
for comfort when I’m down
drinking a cup of tea
eking out the last of The Sun
–
The Hawk Portico 5:05pm
Low Blood Sugar or No Blood Sugar
(something’s wrong with the reader)
I’m in a mini depression
saved only by getting My Hair done
& sitting out here
on The Portico
in mild fall sun
the purging of waves
& the double squawk of a Jay
repeated on His Wire
The Hawk Deck
11:00 am
Eye am dressed in solid grey
& un-ironed white linen
sitting on The Deck, quiet
My Daughter, visiting from College
has just fed Gully
some old rice cakes
& The Crows are subdued
in the trifling fog
The Hawk Portico 9:11pm
I Am The Call
Of The Black Crow
Outside My Kitchen Deck
Insistent, Declarative
Hungry For Any Response
In The Awakening Distance
Of Our Waiting World
Joanna Gilman Hyde 