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I placed My Bejewelled Left Arm
upon the cushion of My Sofa
The Left Hand of Which
became My Grandmother’s–
The Hand My Mother Saw
in a tree
The Night My Grandmother Died
It was a lawn I mowed
in a peach bikini
when I was sixteen
now covered over with blackberry brambles
thigh high
up to the open front door
no longer entered
–
It was My Grandparents’ summer house
yellow & white
with yellow & orange roses climbing
with nasturtiums on the entry deck
vegetable garden by the sea
where parsley grew
& where My Grandmother sent Me
to pick a few sprigs for Our Supper
on The Sun Porch
A Canadian Maple Leaf
is A Star
RED STAR
undulating
Above The Blue Horizon
put on Your Tattoo Sweater, Black
fix Yourself an Ice Coffee
–a tall one–
sit on Your Back Deck
with the dishwasher going
& eggplant parmigiana in the oven
Open Your Journal
Aim Your Silver Pen
write
between
his puny
eyes
I Am Goldy Locks
eating @ My Glass Table
eating bananas & cereal
before donning My Glass Slippers
to trip about to find My Prince
(He’s Around Here Somewhere)
& I Won’t Grow Up
or If I Grow Up
I Have The Option
of reclining, ready
In My Glass Coffin
built by 7 Dwarves (Humours)
3 Bears (Instinct)
& 1 Fairy God Mother
(Atheist In Disguise)
Oh It was a shock alright —
twenty years after My Mother’s Brain Tumour
and have I recovered?
I think so, at least the waves
are telling Me so, and The Cats, Crows
Willets & Gulls. The Sky tells Me so.
–
I hear a Willet now, over
the Southern End of The Hawk —
I am very happy Here
where nothing can get Me.
Joanna Gilman Hyde 