The Hawk Window Seat 10:52am
Years ago I left a house
with home-made curtains
& wooden floors
My Children both were babies there
& I was young with motherhood
& early marriage I thought was happy
until the onset of a tumour
inside My Mother’s Head
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
Tusket, NS 11:45am
When are We going to stop
hearing why Christmas should
or shouldn’t be —
or what it should or shouldn’t
be for?
Like an open van-load of toys
in a car dealer’s show room
to attract any child’s attention
with a sales woman’s pronouncement:
“It’s for the kids —
that’s what Christmas
should be for –“
Eliza’s Lavender Room 7:36pm
The Second Coming of Christ
has moved out of Her Husband’s Room
to afford greater access
to sleep without cats
— a temporary move —
but now to live
in the singularity of mind
DIVINE & HUMAN
as She programs Her Self
to open up The World
by saying “Good Night”
to Its mammoth past
The Hawk Living Room 1:28pm
One Weekend in Early November
My Daughter decided
to quit school
— finishing out the semester of course —
to go to Florida
to work on a boat
— the powering kind —
She wrote a to-do list
blended up an avocado smoothie
for Me to taste
& That was That
The Hawk Living Room 2:22pm
I Am The Fury
The Black Heat Of Possession
Red-bladed
Against
The Purple Heart
Of My Third Child
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:30pm
I am That Infant
born of Childhood Playmates
Who should never have married
carried in the arms
of Dr Albert Schweitzer
forever held in a black & white photograph
hanging in The Dining Room
of Dr W Hunter Blair
The Hawk West Desk Window NOON
I have My Paint Clothes on:
Black Marks and Spencer pants
of My Husband’s
from twenty years ago —
a little girl’s white knitted top
with pearl buttons
no jewellery except for My Silver Hoops
I’m waiting for My Canvas
to be delivered
I’m churning
My Meaning Of Life
over & over
in My Brain
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 Tomato-coloured Couch 3:25pm
I had a suburban upbringing
counteracted by summers
on a Wild Island
off the coast of Nova Scotia
I was a Nyack Public School Student
with paper route and good grades —
on The Island
I wore no clothes
and turned My White Bread Ass
Honey Brown
Joanna Gilman Hyde 