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 Corner Room 10:44am
I know a beautiful woman
with raven hair
sprinkled with Silver —
She hears voices
criticizing Her Every Move
and She lies, sedated,
in My Oh So Familiar
Psychiatric Unit —
Lord I love Her
& She writes & paints
and I would do anything
to make Her Voices
into Messages of Courage
and Support
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:17am
The Sky is Silver
out over a cold grey sea
I have fed My Husband
His Instant Oatmeal
to eat at His Computer
while I am about to consume
My Banana
at The Window
of My Hawk Kitchen Outpost
May 4, Eliza’s Room 8:56pm
The Heralding of Angels
awaits Me on a far distant
shore
where I will see The Prince
of My Dreams
& live forever
more
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:28am
I wake to the sounds
of the ocean —
a distant Willet
and local gulls
It might be six
in the morning
but I am afforded
the luxury
of lying in bed
until 7:30
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:42pm
EYE carry A Poem Of Mine
with Me now
in case I need to read It
out loud —
EYE could read It anywhere
any time
even in The Dead Of Night —
It’s “Good Morning, World!”
written five & a half years ago
EYE am ready
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.
Eliza’s Room 7:30am
The Waves are subtle
from Eliza’s Room —
even the birds seem quiet
and I didn’t hear the crowing
of a neighbouring rooster
I saw yesterday
on My Way to The Guzzle —
I saw Him with His fine teal tail
and about four red hens
the next road over
from where I could see
the back of My House
and the new window
for where I sleep
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:28am
EYE have The Purity
of a dream —
like The Tears I Shed
on The Shoulder
of a grieving widow —
like The Silver Line
of wake behind
a fishing boat
along My Shimmering Ocean —
loved
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:54am
A funny thing happened
this morning when I woke
at dawn:
I thought I was in Hunter’s Bed
& thought immediately of moving
into Eliza’s
when I realized I was
already there
*My Blog is Four Years Old
Joanna Gilman Hyde 