The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:15pm
I held a wafer-thin slice of home-made bread
and breathed to My Self:
“This Is The Staff Of Life”
I placed The Slice, along with The Remainder of The Loaf
on a white plate
and served It to The Crows
in the snow out back
January 30th The Hawk Kitchen 2:30pm
I have seen The Hawk
again —
have I written of Him before?
flying in His full stateliness
outside My Kitchen Window
from The Scrub Spruce down
to The Shore
and back
again
The Hawk Deck 11:11am
I stand before My Railing
in the calm
of this balmy winter day
The Chickadees call to Me
down in the scrub spruce
— A Crow alerts His Friends —
while My Kettle inside
boils
for A Second Cup
* First Cup of tea in My 18,000,000 Metre C2 Rowing Mug
Barrington Passage 4:05pm
Two Geese Honked O’erhead
“Your’s Is An Ungainly Love — ”
Flapping Toward The Moon
The Hawk Kitchen 11:11am
This morning a Blue Jay
came to the top
of The Scraggly Apple
to say, “What’s In Store
For Today — Today –“
Then He flew away
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:22pm
saw Dark Hawk in flight
against My Turbulent Sky:
Survival Power
The Hawk Portico Steps 1:38pm
Today I eat My Home Made Toast
out by a fading snow drift
I listen to the familiar surf
out past the thawing Cape
The Single Call of a nearby Crow
invites Me to This Feast
of My Outside Hour:
I Drink
The Hawk Window Seat 10:44am
Today I stuck My Head out
the sliding glass door
of My Kitchen
to hear The Chorus
of clamouring Jays
ushering in
The Promise
of a New Spring
The Hawk Kitchen 9:27am
I See Life Flicker
On This Coldest Of Mornings:
Birds Among Berries
The Hawk Queen Bed 12:40pm
I am The Black Crow Lady
right fist clutching at My Heart
No More Supper For My Family
No Care As To Where The Food Comes From
Or Who Makes It
–
No More Ears For The Radio
only rain & sleet can calm Me now
–
No More quiet “Good Night”
I am about to yell out
a song so wild
You will wish Your Tinnitus
could consume You
Joanna Gilman Hyde 