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?
There’s A Galaxy
on My Living Room Window Pane
It sits before an old sunset
tantalizing Me by Its Size:
on What Scale is It as Large
as The Galaxies in Space?
on the bacterial level
or the molecular level
or the neutron, proton, electron level?
Or smaller still?
–
Will I ever know The Difference
or is there no difference —
Is It All Relative?
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
I see a great hull of a cloud
draining an isolated shower
out over The Atlantic
blue-grey into blue-grey
–
I have begun reading
Anne Yarbrough’s Bowl of Light
a beautiful record of Her Time
living on Mc Nutt’s Island —
Eliza says she wants to read it too
I stand in sublimity
observing The November Sun
setting Its Light
against The Panorama of Spruce
out My Back Kitchen Door —
Subtle Clouds are rippled
like beach sand
& The Crows have yet
to finish My Offering
of old Shepherd’s Pie
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:00pm
The Sun Is Setting
to The New South West
sending rays through
layered clouds
— rays that used to fall
on the heads of saints —
now into The Ocean
illuminating the bank in orange-gold
along My Piece of Horizon
Joanna Gilman Hyde 