HEALED
I have been embraced
by a high white Baptist Church
and let go
like a helium balloon
by the ties
of my mother’s death
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
I have been embraced
by a high white Baptist Church
and let go
like a helium balloon
by the ties
of my mother’s death
The Hawk Queen Bed 4:38pm
Today on 2 hrs sleep
from 2 mgs Ativan
I began the sculpted head
of My Beautiful Dark Haired Woman
Who appeared on My Right Shoulder
in Roseway Hospital
October 1993
–
She said a lullaby in My Ear —
the most melodious voice I had ever heard
and today I have swaddled a Styrofoam core
in thin slices of plasticine
hyperventilating as I went
hearing My Son’s suggestion
from yesterday’s walk on The Hawk Beach —
“Mom, why don’t You just
exhaust Your Self?”
every slice
from a red-handled knife My Brother gave Me
pushed Me on to panel the form —
My Goal was to cover it, and I did
after carving HTWH in the Styrofoam skull
resting on My Ceramic Bluenose Plate
My Keepsake from the childhood crossings
in that vessel from Bar Harbor, Maine
to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia
when I was so happy
with My Little Family
of Mother, Brother and Me
Down On The Hawk Beach 4:15pm
I am sitting beside a rock
and Oh not just any rock —
it’s a rock the size and shape
of a giant brain tumour,
brown and cut apart at the edges —
it doesn’t scare Me anymore
I listen to the waves instead
at My Right —
the rock is to My Left and I will go
away from it
as quietly
as I came upon it
The Hawk West Desk Window 5:25pm
I learned the word “Sanctuary”
from My Mother
Who had it written
on a weathered shingle
nailed to a tree along
the trail We blazed
to The North East Bluff
of McNutt’s Island —
She wrote a passage below
that word, which,
if My Brother were alive
He would remember
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:20am
This morning as I ate
My Banana
out by the bank
where I dumped My Dead
Christmas Tree —
I heard My Mother call
to Me —
“Good Morning, ” She said
Good Morning, Jogie –“
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 11:26am
Today I picked up A Star
(Silver of course)
off My Thick Grey Bath Mat
It glinted at Me
as I sat on the toilet
and so I caught It
on My Left Index Finger
and scraped It off
with My Little Metal Star-scraper
into A Little White Box
of Indeportenz*
and named It
Joanna
*word of mine from My Childhood used to describe small collections of special things and later business envelopes and their contents My Mother would give Me to play with — usually junk mail.
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:13pm
I went to sleep
how many nights?
in My Summer Child’s Room
in Jordan Bay, Nova Scotia
the oldest child of a single mother
from the sixties —
in that little room at the head of the stairs
I saw The Sun against
My Far Wall
and I tried to close the curtains
but The Light came in
anyway and I
went to sleep
The Hawk Living Room 4:30pm
A new arrangement of paintings
builds a triangle upon My Living Room Wall:
My Mother’s Portrait as a very young woman
painted by My Uncle
dresses the wall below My Balcony
hanging in the middle
above two impressionist paintings
of Africa — She took Me
as an infant to grow there
in Gabon and came home
with these two paintings
I framed in art school —
one showing a grass-roofed hut
palm trees with seated figure —
the other showing four bark canoes
and two figures readying them
in the foreground of open water
and open sky —
My First Year In Africa
She called The Worst Year
of Her Life — spent insomniac
underweight, pregnant
with My Fated Brother —
Africa inspired Her Novel
NOT EVEN THE MOON
never published —
Her Portrait looks down
to those two African paintings
and I look up to all three
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:55am
My Mother was My Guiding Star
I hang Her Portrait
above My Door
She led Me straight
to never lie
& held Me close
until She died
Joanna Gilman Hyde 