The Hawk Deck 9:36am
I Am The Vessel
of Life
consuming inordinate quantities
of water
retaining fluid
in My Head
& Limbs
I hear the call of The Mourning Dove
& The Grackle
on This New Spring Morning
I think of what My Life
contains:
My House
My Husband
My Far-away Kids
grown now
with Their Own
Lives
The Hawk Deck 7:20am
I open My Door
to stand on My Deck
with the waves, the birds
& sun
last night’s fog
is alight on the growth
the coffee pot is on
My Husband will row
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:05pm
I watched a society
of starlings
pecking in My Front Yard
while I realized
I am limiting My SELF
with this Second Coming of Christ
notion
and a white vehicle
drove past and scared
the birds away
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:45am
Last Night I slept
with the window opened a crack
to let in a nip of Spring
This Morning
and the first song
of birds
The Hawk Kitchen 4:41pm
The First Recognizable
Call
I’ve heard for Spring
is that of The Jay
My Childhood Friend
with the tumult
of waves
breaking through
the new rain
The Hawk Kitchen 9:38am
I have My Kitchen Witch —
It’s a hand-carved, hand-painted Blue Jay
fat, sitting by My Sink Window
looking out
watching over Me
while I make
egg plant parmesan
The Hawk Kitchen 12:28pm
My Kitchen is My
Viewing Station
through glass doors
& arched window
over the sink
I can see hawks
schools of tiny birds
like an aquarium
against an ever-changing
cloud-scape —
to the right
I have the delight
of The Kitchen Outpost
— a smaller window
facing My Enormous
Expanse
of salty shore line
ever-changing in the weather
of the sea
The Hawk Outpost 4:30pm
The Sky has a hue
of aqua green
against the three or so
inches of white
The Colour is delicate
transitional
a gull flies through It
out of view
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:00pm
In December 1970 I wanted to possess
badly wanted
A Pair Of Love Birds
green & red —
sitting so close
in the local pet store
I had My nine-year-old heart set
on Them & cried to My Mother
that I had to have Them
to which She replied, “Joge, what if One Of Them
dies?”
Instead, on Christmas Morning I found
a beautiful Indian Ring Neck Parakeet
but He died That Day
at the bottom of His Golden Cage
& destroyed
My ability to see
The Singularity Of God
Joanna Gilman Hyde 