The Hawk Portico NOON
I am dressed to paint
My Killer Lines
of Dagger Points
in My Black Lace Bra
& Black Jesus Underwear
I hear The Chickadee’s
approval
before I begin
I just have to draw
The Silver Blades
out
The Hawk Deck 8:45am
I’ve caught the liquid sun
to the call of The Chickadee
I see iridescent blue now
when I close My Eyes
& look again
The Hawk Portico 5:07pm
How does The Jay
call Me so, back
into the the early reaches
of My Childhood?
–
Is that why We have
distinctive bird song
to harken back
to parts We shan’t
forget?
The Hawk Deck 11:20am
The Plumage of Clouds
rides high overhead
& I become lost
in The World
of Flying Gulls
Buzzing Flies
& The Deep Recess
of Blue
The Hawk Portico 7:40pm
Down by The Guzzle tonight
I saw a young gull
with His breathy Beep – Beep —
He was with a parent gull
presumably
Who flew a few yards off
perhaps because of My proximity —
and Young Gull flew too
and circled overhead, beeping
to land
straight down
beside His Bond
The Hawk Portico 5:47pm
I wonder what happened
to The Clothes I left in Atlantic
when I left My Husband
for Dr Blair —
how long did They stay
in the closet Peter built
— My Shoes —
— I can’t remember
what shoes —
did He take Them
to The Salvation Army?
— but Here —
here on The Hawk
where silence greets Me
from My Red Deck Chair
where I can hear a bird fly
or a neighbour’s flag flap
and the surf, always the surf
— Here I needn’t ask —
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
Joanna Gilman Hyde 