Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: Howard Talbot Walden 2nd

A PAIR OF WILLETS

The Hawk Queen Bed 8:57pm

Yesterday on The Trail

in Barrington Bay

I heard The Willets

The Sound of Childhood

in Jordan Bay

My Grandfather wrote

about The Willet’s song

in Anchorage Northeast:

“My own ear has seldom caught “Willet”

in the famous and far-piercing call.

To me it is pilly-will-wee,

with the accent on the last syllable,

or pill-wee-wee, with the accent

on the second,

in either case repeated over and over

and virtually always in flight.

It is a high, hurrying, questioning cry,

urgent of something I can only imagine,

a glad sound on the bird’s coursings of the shore,

a call of fulfillment(sic)

and the June-morning glory

of being alive and a-wing.”

Howard Talbot Walden 2nd

Anchorage Northeast p.189

The Little Man

The Hawk Kitchen 5:07pm

When I was A Little Girl

My Grandfather had a bedtime ritual

out on Our Summer Porch in Jordan Bay:

“Say Good Night To The Little Man”

so I would say Good Night each night

to a little seated fishing figure

dressed like Waldo

in a knitted striped sweater

holding a fishing rod

He sat on a pile of pretty rocks and shells

in a corner display case — how

could My Grandfather ever have known

that My Mother would name

Her Single-channel McNutt Island Weather Radio

“The Little Man”

& that She would take Him to bed

& rest Him on Her Chest

listening to His droning, squeaky Voice

lulling Her to sleep?

How could My Grandfather ever have known

that twenty years after My Mother died

I would put My Self to sleep

every night while My Husband holds My Hand

with a rumination about A Little Man

I see linked to Me

from where I began

to where I will end

when I see no beginning

no end?

BASEMENT FILES

The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:45pm

I’ve consulted an auctioneer

as to the possibility of selling off

My Family’s Letters, Memorabilia

Battles Between Offspring

& Every Valentine From 1947

to The Early 80’s

when My Grandparents Died —

but My Husband doesn’t think

I should

& My Daughter thinks

I wouldn’t get more than $20.00

THE CHRISTMAS SURPRISE

The Hawk Red Deck Chair 12:15pm

Oh My God! — That’s My Mother

Telling Me To Write This Poem

— It’s The Chickadees

flitting around The Scraggly Apple

telling Me to write down

what I did one Christmas

in Cooper Union

I asked My Unmarried Economics Teacher

to be a Christmas Present

for My Mother

& He said Yes!

so I wrote Mom a note

for Christmas Morning

that a Man was coming to visit

He came to Christmas Dinner

in Valley Cottage

— My Grandfather was there too —

now Pappy, The Teacher, My Mother, My Brother

are all dead

but The Chickadee-dee-dees

are alive

& chirping

THE HERON

The West Desk Window 11:24am

I am luxuriating in The Full Viewing

of My Beautiful Bird of Paradise

I watch Him from My Vehicle

at the side of Hawk Point Road

My Neck craned to My Left

I gaze across Tidal Flats

at The Break in The Dunes

where Storm Waves wash in

small fry

for My Beautiful Long-legged, Long-necked Friend

Who wades so prominently

through One Grand Pool

to fish at Four Glorious Intervals

before I allow My Self

to finish driving home

to fix Lunch

“PAPPY–DO THE LITTLE MAN!”

“Here’s The Little Man, way up here deep in the forest.

He’s feeling his way out. He’s looking around.”

“Make him come out.”

“Now The Little Man’s on the edge of a steep cliff–”

“I can see him.”

“Quick– He slides down the cliff– swoop!

He jumps over the next bump to find himself

on padded ground.”

“I see The Little Man, Pappy!”

“The Little Man walks ahead to his little ledge–

He puts one foot in either track– he looks around

and bends his knees and looks to the right

and then to the left.”

“Does he see me?”

“The Little Man looks over

the edge of an even steeper cliff–”

“Does he see me?”

“The Little Man sees a little girl named L’il Bits Boogen

waaay down at the bottom of the cliff.”

“Pappy– make him fly!”

“The Little Man’s looking down–”

“Jump!”

“He’s looking around–”

“He’s gonna fly!”

“The Little Man’s thinking of flying, any second–”

“Make him fly!”

“He’s testing the wind.”

“Make him jump!”

“He’s thinking of jumping–”

“JUMP!”

“Jump!  The Little Man’s flying down to Boogie!  Weeeee!”

“Weeeeee!”

THE LAWN

It was a lawn I mowed

in a peach bikini

when I was sixteen

now covered over with blackberry brambles

thigh high

up to the open front door

no longer entered

It was My Grandparents’ summer house

yellow & white

with yellow & orange roses climbing

with nasturtiums on the entry deck

vegetable garden by the sea

where parsley grew

& where My Grandmother sent Me

to pick a few sprigs for Our Supper

on The Sun Porch