Barrington Passage, NS 10:04am
I said “Good Morning!”
to three sets of 2
on The Barrington Bay Trail
and The Morning was
beautiful
when I thought of those
trucks
out of favour with Me now
I was called by A Chickadee
and so She is Timeless
The Hawk Deck 11:34am
The Chick-a-dee calls Me
away from My Self
to The Time of My Mother
when My Mother fed Them
& Me
in Valley Cottage
& called to Them
“Chick-a-dee-dee
Chick-a-dee-dee”
Here on The Hawk
Those Little Birds
take Me back
to when I was A Little Girl
raised by a single mother
in My First Real Home
My Real Home Now
is here on The Hawk
Fifty Years Later
where I listen
to The Chick-a-dees
of My Choosing
The Hawk Deck 10:22am
It’s A Fine Time For Me
to write of The Religion For One
out here on My Pristine Deck
in The August Morning Sun —
What Can I Tell Of My View
Of The Self?
The Birds How They Cry
for broken hearts
& bombed civilians —
but wait —
NO ONE SHOULD GET BOMBED:
Ours Is An Earth
of exquisite beauty
& must not be marred
by hatred & distrust —
I Am Here To Settle Out
the chaos
To Re-organize
The Individual Mind
To See Out Its Full Potential
& Have It Believe
in Life
The Hawk Deck 12:42pm
The Gull’s Raucous Cry
is every sound of Salt Air
rising above Its neighbours’
murmurings
It crowns the calls
of all other birds
& rings in the start
of Summer
The Hawk Deck 7:47pm
All That I Have Lived For
Is Wrapped Up In This Moment
As I Am Wrapped In My Heavy Grey Bathrobe
With The Spears Of Light Forever Above Me
And All Down Around Me
How Have I Gotten This Far?
Through A Child’s Adoration Of A Pair
Of Love Birds To A Mother’s Love
Of Her Dearest 2.4’s
The Evening Light Is Upon The East
Illuminating The Scrub Spruce Forest
And I Have Come This Far
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:38pm
A Black-headed Gull
blown in from the storm
circled over Me
as I threw
bits of bread
on the newly cut lawn
He landed beside Me
for probably the first
square meal
He’s had since
He was carried to Us
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:53pm
He was A Starling
innocent and frightened
by My Maniacal Driving
swooping into His Flock
He hit the front of My Car —
on My Way Back from picking up a pizza
yes, pizza!
He lay in the middle of the road
The Hawk Deck NOON
Do Birds Ever get Their Calls
Mixed Up
& Sing To The Wrong Mate?
The Hawk Deck 12:22pm
What makes a songbird sing?
What life force bursts forth
through every tune?
Is it a call to a mate
or simply the sound
of a beautiful morning?
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:26am
Sliding My Glass Door
Bird Song Carries Me Aloft
Yellow Bird’s Clear Ring
Joanna Gilman Hyde 