The Hawk Deck 2:50pm
There is something like magic
in the stillness here
with only The Birds
— even They have settled —
the breeze is lulling
I cannot even hear the surf
The Hawk Deck 1:00pm
The Yellow Bird has visited again —
He has not chirped of God
but of His Friend
in another tree
The Hawk Deck 11:30am
I Am God THE OBSERVER
I Am God THE LISTENER
I Am A Human Being
In Love With The Land
Where She Lives
The Hawk Deck 9:55am
I have The Solace
of a Day In June
cool, but garbed in My Grey Bathrobe
I am ready for a cup of tea
& more Bird Song
The Hawk Deck 11:25pm
I Am God
And From God
I Am Not Separate
From The Tiny Wing-ed Bug
On My White Sleeve
The Tomato-coloured Couch 12:15pm
This Morning My Daughter reported waking
to the song of multitudinous bird-life
the dehumidifier tray was full
but She had no hot water
in The Atlantic House —
My First Marital Home
with Eliza’s Father
Who picked the colours
& built an addition
complete with screened-in porch
off Our New Bedroom
I sat out there in the shelter of the screens
in My Post-Mother’s-Death Depression
& wondered, along with everyone else,
why I was not happy
The Hawk Portico 6:00pm
In the stillness of this evening
I have a call for The Hawk:
The Plaintive Cooing of The Mourning Dove
sounding clean & close above the others
so still am I in My Chair
I hear not even surf
but the buzz of a fly
& the sucking surge of The Grackle
The Hawk Kitchen 7:50pm
I have drunk My First Beverage
W–A–T–E–R
from My Chalice Divine
standing before My Dramatic Sky
of heavy mauve cloud
& Illuminated Gull
reaching around
to the sea-view
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:38pm
I slept ’till noon
to make up for nightly sleep-deprivation
& got out of bed @ 2:00 this afternoon
to make up for a wasted day
of gathering together the garbage
for garbage day tomorrow
I got showered and dressed
to be presentable for Eliza’s boyfriend
& sat on the portico
to talk on the phone
to an artist friend near Chicago
when above My Front Yard
flew The Graceful Long-legged Heron
slowly traversing the air
above My House
& the heaviness of bed-lying
was long gone
The Hawk Deck 12:40pm
I have been called to write
by the high urgency
of The Willet
here in My Sanctuary
The Call of The Wild
alerts Me to The Strife
of Humanity
I know exists
but from which
I am graciously
exiled
Joanna Gilman Hyde 