The Hawk Kitchen 5:30
He can’t get Me
if I’m wearing Black
He made Me lie on The Tomato-coloured Couch
in My Grey Bathrobe
all afternoon on one Ativan & one Wellbutrin
— Hunter’s recommendation —
He can’t get Me
now that I’ve changed
though I still see Him
behind My Eyes
I count The Years, The Double Decades
He has infiltrated My Life
I cannot allow My Self
to fall
to fail
I Will Keep Wearing Black
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:45am
I have bled A Perfect Heart
on My Side of The Bed
It sits here while We drink
Our Coffee
& contemplate the day
ahead
I go with My Vision
of sorts: Brand New Head
for Hunter has told Me
I don’t need a partner
A Relationship instead
The Hawk Bench of Fortification 2:45pm
Through My Anger
Through My Female God’s Anger
I will Construct
not peace (that’s so old it hurts)
I will Construct
a New Way of Seeing
for The Whole Planet
— oh, It may take Some Time —
but I’m aiming to use My Time
until I Die, and then some
Rudder’s Yarmouth 3:47pm
He carries Me like Christ
He goes before Me on Highways
in traffic tie-ups
I hear His Word
against any bad decision
on My Part
He is embodied
embedded
in My (——-)
The Hawk Kitchen 12:50pm
I was That Nice Young Woman
balancing babies on My Left Hip
splitting firewood for The Atlantic Stove
hair shoulder length
smiling for photographs
coping with My Mother’s Illness
but not Her Death
Illuminated by The Shower of Lights
I descended into Depression
spanning eight years
pulled out by The Arms
of My Doctor
Who became My Second Husband
–
In This 22nd Year My Hair is short
children grown
I wear black
and block My Heart
in A Vault of Silver
Joanna Gilman Hyde 