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 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 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
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
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
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 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
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
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