The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:13pm
legions of mosquitoes
have swarmed into the broken webbing
of yesterday
catching themselves, in some cases
one upon the other
still alive
& how I wonder
can their scrambling efforts be
for each other?
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 6:43pm
The Bug crawling up
My Outpost Window
can feel My Breath
My Heart-beat
My Urgency to Write
He is A Living Being
from The Roots of Divinity
like Me
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:22pm
In Memory Of All The Flies
Who Died When I Sprayed
Their Cranny
Over My Storm Door —
In Memory Of All Those
Times I Let You Out
Carefully Lowering The Glass Panel
On The Screen
To Ease You Down Without Harm —
I Have Had To Sweep Off
Your Carcasses
From My Step
& Hope I Never See Your Brothers
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:25pm
The House Fly I cupped
in My Right Hand
and released beyond
My Front Door
knows My Scent
and carries It with Him
into Reality
The Hawk Deck 11:10am
The Day On The Deck
Is So Still
I Can Hear The Echo
Of The Crow’s Call
Harsh, Yet Circular
Rising In A Crows’ Chorus
From The Scrub Spruce Nearby
Here Beside Me
Perhaps A Buzz Flies
The Hawk Kitchen 7:13pm
There’s something so satisfying
about letting A Fly out
a sliding glass door —
It’s as if all Your Problems
go along with It
& You can stand back
& look at The Sky
in Its sunset-hued pink
& think There Is No Better
Way
Joanna Gilman Hyde 