The Hawk Kitchen 1:15pm
I have bled before
a stand of Crows
I have wept in dreams
of a pristine throat
muted white with a thin pink bow —
The Dead Princess Neck
of alabaster silence
commanding Me to throw
My Words up and out
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 Tomato-coloured Couch 4:27pm
The Sun beams in on Me
through My Psychotic Haze
subsided — I no longer
hear songs on the radio
as messages to Me Alone
I no longer see blazing signs
of futuristic Life & Love
My Halo has vanished
I am “settled” now —
a word the hospital used —
I even heard & saw
A Lone Goose fly overhead
while I shovelled off
the paltry snow
from the front steps —
there too in The Sun —
& The Goose
carried no significance
other than He
must be lost
while I am found
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
The Hawk Outpost 10:25am
The Birds on the wire
know not
the chaos to come
in human terms
Let Nature be spelled
& All Birds
sanctified
The Hawk Queen Bed 11:11am
While Our Second Pot of Coffee
steeped
an amorphous flock of Starlings
(at least I assume They were Starlings)
crowded out the sky to the south
& landed on several high wires
matting there
until They took off
scattered
to the west
leaving the wires swaying
in Their rush
leaving Me to pour The Coffee
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:08pm
Big News among The Crows
today, heralded by several Jays
as I looked to The Grey Ocean
& Sky — The US Mint
sold out Its Silver Eagles
while A Great Blue Heron flew
past My Kitchen Outpost
The Hawk Window Seat 4:05pm
What Motivates The Bird
To Fly?
Is It Just That He
Has Wings?
Or Is It The Longing
For Companionship
That Keeps Him
In His School
Aloft?
Joanna Gilman Hyde 