I am casting off My Mother’s Houses
I just opened the cupboard door under the sink
here at The Hawk
to dry My Hands on a non-existent towel there
thinking I was in The Shakespeare House
momentarily
but I’m not — that House
went in September 2011
& I am left with The Island
ready to go at the full asking price
by This Friday —
how many dish towel memories
do I have there?
The Hawk Portico 3:00pm
The Waves Today Remind Me
of Children Playing
uneven in Their Tumult
sporadic in Their Breaking
–
Yes, I have read of The Accident
but My Observations
were gathered
beforehand
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:10pm
I felt Your Little Black Heart
wrap around Me
as I traversed the rainy Sobey’s Parking Lot
My Hair Newly Cut
You grabbed My Black Bullet-proof Vest
shouting “Live, Damn It, Live”
The Hawk Bedroom 2:52pm
I Am That Woman
standing poised
with My Weight on My Left Foot
My Left Hand
gracing My Belly
My Right Hand
holding My Black Book
against A Secure Right Hip
Right Leg and Foot turned tentatively back
contemplating
My Preparedness
Today I drove past a black cat
the size & shape of Astro
stretched out dead
on the road into Clark’s Harbour
I wondered if He was loved
as much as I love Astro
I wondered if He could have been hit
because of His Blackness
Joanna Gilman Hyde 