The Hawk Queen Bed 1:30am
I had a stone wall once
a series, a square
of old grey rocks, cleared & tumbling
fenced around an apple orchard
behind My Mother’s Island House:
It had two openings
for a wagon’s passage — one
on the East wall
one on the West
& I mowed through it
with a $2.00 lawn mower
over buttercups
& wild raspberry cane
& over a nest of field mice
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:47pm
I am growing My Thick Wavy Hair
to Its Self Organizing Length
I have already thrown out
My Black Jesus Underwear
& am taking My Black & Fuchsia
to The Salvation Army
I am wearing pale lipstick
I am taking up knitting
& MAYBE baking cookies —
The Severe Mrs Blair
has been outgrown
into The Youth of Joanna Hyde
before Her Mother Died
& She is of a quiet demeanor
Who now yells “Bless You”
when people sneeze!!!
The Hawk Deck 4:56pm
That beautiful rose light
is hovering over the ocean
I am waiting for The Moon
to rise —
M(EYE) Tree is up
— yet to be trimmed —
in honour of My Mother’s
Birthday, which
once every seven years or so
coincides
with American Thanksgiving
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 12:09pm
When My Daughter visits
My Mother’s Island
will She dance
on Her Grandmother’s Grave?
Will She pick fall foliage
& climb shoreline rocks
scaring The Slumbering Garter Snakes
& The Mink who feed
upon Them?
The Hawk Deck 1:52pm
I stood bent in My Shower
& the milky foam
breathed across My Chest
& poured in streams
from My Two Breasts
like The Mother Wolf
in My Parents’ Nest
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:50am
Eye woke w/ The Dream
of M(eye) Mother
having Her 2nd Funeral
Eye was w/ Howard
in The Jordan Bay House
& She hadn’t died yet
Eye asked Howard where
We should have The Funeral
& He said Here!
We can put The Coffin
on The Sun Porch Table
& have Everyone park
on the grass. We can send
Her Body out to sea
& Eye said, It better go
way out to sea or
It will just wash up
in The Cove!
Eye asked My Brother —
“Have You ever known
Anyone Who’s had 2
Funerals?”
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:48pm
In The Jordan Bay House
Howard and Eye were put to bed
at 8 o’clock
with late evening sun
pouring in over the ridge
to the west of our Grandparents’
It came through uncurtained windows
as We lay in Our Beds
tired from Our Days
at the shore
or helping in Granmamma’s garden
or Pappy’s workshop —
those were the domains
of Our Grandparents while Our Mother
worked on Her Island House
half a harbour away
where She would sleep
forever when She died
with sheep walking over
Her Grave
Joanna Gilman Hyde 