VIEW
The Hawk Hallway 8:18am
I catch The Silver Sheen
upon the water
& wonder what the day
will bring
I prepare My List
for Home-coming Daughter
& wonder not that My Heart
still sings
The Hawk Hallway 8:18am
I catch The Silver Sheen
upon the water
& wonder what the day
will bring
I prepare My List
for Home-coming Daughter
& wonder not that My Heart
still sings
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:22pm
I have saved every Dozen Roses
of Eliza’s
hung upside down
& dried out
in vases, arranged
two dozen still hanging
from Me, old boyfriends
one treasured young man
staged in My Kitchen
doubled dozen in cut glass
petals laying themselves out
on table tops
falling to the floor
scattered up the stairs
crunching in Her Bed Room
all their colours subtly muted
drying into generic mauve
as they lose their moisture
their scent
taking on the scent of age
of years
The Tomato-coloured Couch 11:30am
I met a Nice Young Man
with a husk in His Voice
on the pedestrian walk-up
to The Yarmouth — Portland Ferry
New Year’s Eve 1985
–
I had been dumped on the highway
by My Arguing Mother
and had to get a ride to New York
–
Peter Lynn Haeghaert was His Name
and He had been visiting His Father for Christmas
After discovering We were both visiting parents
and We were both artists
He agreed to drive Me into New York City even though
He lived on the Eastern End of Long Island
We caught the tail end of a Holiday Inn Party
and shared a room and slept in separate beds
–
Not only was Peter an artist — He was available
In January I invited Him to an ice cream party
and He drove the fifty miles into The City
and took Me out to dinner
In February He sent Me a home-made Valentine
–
I didn’t see Peter again until May
when I went out to Sag Harbour
armed with Two Friends
Who liked His Blond Apartment
and the $50.00 picnic He bought for Us
which We enjoyed on a beach
in the company of a topless Irish girl
On the way back to NYC, one of My Friends
suggested I ask Peter His Birthday
and when It was discovered to be June 22
plans were swiftly made
to visit again, this time picking strawberries
& drinking champagne
–
Our last official date, numbering Four
Peter chartered two tickets
aboard a sail boat for The Statue of Liberty Centennial
with it’s 4th of July fanfare of food and fireworks
–
Peter came into New York City one last time
before we planned to go to Nova Scotia together
but He didn’t stay as long as I would have liked
& I deliberately slept with someone else
–
August in Nova Scotia
My Mother cornered Peter on Her Island Bed
with coffee in the morning
and asked Peter what His Intentions were:
Peter looked at Me and smiled
and said
“I would like to marry Joanna
and live in Nova Scotia”
October 14, 2013 The Hawk Queen Bed 10:24pm
She showed Us Her Gift Card Collection:
Tim Horton’s, American Eagle, NSLC
(Nova Scotia Liquor Commission)
–
She said Good-night
on the eve of Her Adult-hood
& closed Her Bedroom Door
on Teenage-hood
Childhood
& Infancy
She took a dark fluffy cat with Her
to sleep
–
She plans to be up @ 6:00am
to leave @ 6:45 to drive
three hours to Her First Class
The New Nineteen-year-old
The Hawk Deck 10:40am
22nd Anniversary of My Mother’s Brain Tumour Diagnosis
I live in a place
where women wear Their Robes
until noon
where cats meander across
other people’s lawns
where The Fall Sun
allows You a final stipend
of sitting on The Deck
where You reflect on a past
You know now
is gone
The Hawk Portico 4:22pm
On one of these rare days
in early Fall
so still
I’ve decided to stay
on The Hawk
instead of driving to Barrington
for a walk
on The Trail
while Hunter rows —
I cannot miss
this outdoor treat
of sitting in My Red Deck Chair
with My Front Door open
to The Sounds of My Daughter
readying in the kitchen
for tonight’s drive
back to
College
The Hawk Basement 12:39pm
When My Mother first had Her Brain Tumour
diagnosed
She was tested as to functionality
by having to bake Chocolate Chip Cookies
unassisted
in a hospital kitchen
She was to follow a recipe
and I was with Her
not allowed to help
but I don’t remember
how, or if
They came out
The West Desk Window 10:30pm
What is being heard
in the primordial surf
swooshing its way through
My Bedroom Window —
is it the surge I heard when My Father’s Sperm
rushed to make Me
when My Mother’s Egg
swelled and grew
to the whoosh of Her Womb
Hers and Mine?
The Hawk Deck
11:00 am
Eye am dressed in solid grey
& un-ironed white linen
sitting on The Deck, quiet
My Daughter, visiting from College
has just fed Gully
some old rice cakes
& The Crows are subdued
in the trifling fog