The Hawk Portico 5:47pm
I wonder what happened
to The Clothes I left in Atlantic
when I left My Husband
for Dr Blair —
how long did They stay
in the closet Peter built
— My Shoes —
— I can’t remember
what shoes —
did He take Them
to The Salvation Army?
— but Here —
here on The Hawk
where silence greets Me
from My Red Deck Chair
where I can hear a bird fly
or a neighbour’s flag flap
and the surf, always the surf
— Here I needn’t ask —
The Hawk Outpost 9:34am
The Swath Of Silver
Beyond My Post
Blinds Me To Its Essence
But Reminds Me
Of My Security
In My Lovely House
By The Sea
The Hawk Deck 2:50pm
I am grown up now
the squawk of the Jay cannot lure
Me back —
when I speak in childish tones
it is to emphasize My Desire —
My Vision Of Black —
I Am A Figure Of Wonderment
& The World
must always
wonder
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:34pm
No haiku tonight —
I’ll write something
long & drawn out
like how I conjured up
Nothing
from one of My Thought Cycles
& ended up not knowing
what to think
or why
or how —
I have recovered
here on my Tomato-coloured Couch
where I am comfortable
at Home
relatively relaxed
with A Husband on His Computer
telling Me to take a break
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:50pm
Today in The Little Store
in Clark’s Harbour
which I patronize
as much as I can
I was addressed
by a sardonic neighbour
as “Mrs Blair” — boy
has She got My Number
The Hawk Portico 4:45pm
I want to write
My Life Out
in brilliant vibrancy
like the colours
of My Quilt
Purple & Teal
housed now
in a lavender room
by The Sea
(of course)
where I am
happiest
in a red deck chair
on My Front
Stoop
(The Portico)
entertained by amiable neighbours
taken care of
(in case I still need care)
by My
Glowingly Handsome Husband —
let Me write
too
about My Beautiful
Daughter
My Heroic Son
& yes
as the brightest
of all
let Me write
& Write
about My Love
which strings Me along
from water tap
to ocean spray
I drink
from My Glass
named Life
& I live
in Divine
Completeness
Barrington Passage, NS 10:04am
I said “Good Morning!”
to three sets of 2
on The Barrington Bay Trail
and The Morning was
beautiful
when I thought of those
trucks
out of favour with Me now
I was called by A Chickadee
and so She is Timeless
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:44pm
I need A New Symbol
for good grace
white pick-ups
don’t cut it any-more
license plates with D’s & V’s
are crumpled down
below My New Acquisition
laying out on Eliza’s bed:
My Boldest Quilt
Stating The Strength Of Colour
Pattern
Handi-work
Joanna Gilman Hyde 