Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: bird life

STILL

The Hawk Deck 8:51am

The Sea is liquid silver

in these early morning hours

I take solace in The Surf

to The North of where I sit

soaking in a last day of summer

with birds abuzz & cats

stirring on The Deck

THE CROWN

The Hawk Queen Bed 9:30pm

Today I drove past A Big Black Crow

perched atop a pile of dirt

He struck Me by His Blackness

compared to the organic colouration of brown

He stood as The Finial Of Dignity

above a mountain of earth

His Mountain — His Keep

–singularly His Post —

The Crow made the brown Truly Brown

His Black was Truly Black

MY BOOK NAMED “SAM”

The Hawk Deck 10:45am

Two years ago I spent

an entire afternoon

shredding five copies of a 364-page manuscript

I wrote after My Mother died

I set up the shredder from My Husband’s office

and opened the first of five bottles of beer

In those next seven hours

There went all the sections, chapters

ten pages at a time

with the shredder quitting every twenty minutes —

There went the first chapter

of My Tragic Brother overlapping

My Mother’s diagnosis

October 2, 1991

of a malignant brain tumour —

There went the chapters on living

with Her Illness and Decline

There went the chapter on The Death

March 27, 1993

There went the chapter on The Cremation

with The Chickadee’s Visit

There went Me

on no sleep

for four days — There went

The Shower of Silver Lights

on March 31st, 1993

There went The Little Doctor

calling Me a “Seer” on April Fool’s Day —

There went The First Depression

There went The Magical Moment

October 22, 1993 with The Little Doctor

There went The Telepathic Message

with Him :  Dr David Hamilton Wilson

There went My Second Pregnancy —

The Baby Girl I Dreamt Up —

infant I breast fed until She was two*

There went the section on writing the book

and getting literally lost in My Work

on a rented computer

There went subsequent depressions

Dreams of The Little Doctor

There went forever, maybe,

the description of My Childhood Parrot “Sam”

whose faulty clipping job I attempted

at My age of eleven which left him

unable to fly in My Bedroom

(which for some reason I didn’t want Him to do)

but left Him able only to veer off in sickly circles

until I had to give Him up to another little girl

when He became a problem at the Canadian/US border

at each summer crossing

Finally there went the last line of the book

which I will always have, written in June of 1996

as a married woman:

“The Bird In My Hand Is Worth Two In My Bush”

*Daughter Eliza now looking for possible surviving copy

2:00pm — Daughter Eliza FOUND IT in My Stepmother’s farmhouse in Vermont

REMNANTS

The Hawk Portico 5:46pm

I hear The Chickadee

& an outboard motor

& think of My Mother

My Mother traversing the waves

to get out to Mc Nutt Island

A Place I swore never

to forget

yet It has caused Me pain

& grief when She died

but I own Her house no longer

merely some land

which My Children

are destined

to inherit

ONE SOUND

The Hawk Deck 10:12am

How can One Sound

conjure up A Place

and A Time?

— It’s The Call Of The Jay

that does It for Me

That Authoritative Squawk

harkens back to My Childhood

growing up in The Woods

of Rockland County

where I was a bossy child neighbour

and control freak

to My Brother

RECEPTION

The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:00pm

There Was No Little Yellow Bird

In The Scraggly Apple

When I Said My Prayer

Today

But The Waves Were There

The Waves Heard Me

And So My Prayer

Is Answered

THE SENTINEL

The Hawk Deck 10:06am

I Am Guarding My Ocean

I Am Watching For Birds

To Record Their Song

Accompanying Each Moment

Of Scenic Bliss

A Dog Barks, A Neighbour Calls

To Another

While I Sit

In My Red Deck Chair

Taking Stock

BUTTERFLY

The Hawk Portico 4:08pm

How many dead souls

can be attached to one

Butterfly?

No one near to Me has died

recently

yet there before My Stoop

flitted One for the taking

like The Birds

Who go unadorned

with such heraldry

SECURITY

The Hawk Deck NOON

The harsh call of The Crow

interspersed with My Meandering Mind

alerts Me to what

I am thinking

as an accent mark

an exclamation point:

Yes — I am happy

here on My Deck

I am secure

— oh! another Crow —

I am secure here

but My Mind is connected

to a twenty-year-old

event

which has guided Me

to this place of solace

and guides Me still

THE JAYS

The Hawk Portico 6:40pm

The Jays Have The Propensity

To Call Me Away To My Childhood

Raised By A Single Mother

On Top Of A Hilly One Acre

In Woods Of Birdsong

& Blind Man’s Bluff