Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: McNutt Island

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?

EVOCATION

On McNutt Island

I used to sit in our 3-holer privy

with My Mother

who often rested Her right elbow

on Her thigh

right hand under chin

Left Hand draped across

dangling Her Silver Nugget Ring

I assumed this same position today

with My Left Hand draped

across My Thighs

& I Was My Mother

I looked down to see My Mother’s Ring

& there were My Diamonds —

jolting Me

with crystallizing light

seared into My Brain

OK’d by My Mother

 

 

HOUSES I HAVE WORKED ON

The Hawk Deck 7:20 pm

HOUSES I HAVE WORKED ON

If My Mother worked on a house

does that count for Me?

She rubbed lemon oil into My Father’s Furniture

before the move to McNutt Island

when I was a child–

I did re-paint My Bedroom there

before the arrival of My First Husband

Then He & I pregnant with Our First Born

built The Thoreau House–

the one-room post & beam

We wouldn’t sell for a million dollars

He & I fixed up The Shakespeare House

in Shelburne for My Mother–

She paid us–

& then We bought our own

with no electricity & no plumbing–

I put My Soul into that Atlantic House

if not My Heart

& then My Mother died

& My Days of House-fixing were over.

I had Eliza & an affair

with an adoring doctor–

My Second Husband now–

& The House He & I have on The Hawk

should be My Final Resting Place–

though I feel It may not be

despite all the trim here

I have painted:

Living Room, Dining Room

Family Room, Hallway

Balcony, Stairs

& Corner Room–

and all The Artwork I have hung

11:11am

I am dressed for The Sun

in Floppy Sun Hat

& Long Mexican House Dress

with Sunscreen on My Arms

45 years or more

away from when My Mother

dressed Me

in My Sun Pants & nothing else

& sent Me outside

away from Harm

on Our Sunny Nova Scotia Island

TODAY I PRAYED

Please let Mumbo go

Please let The Island go

Please let Me go

     LET ME GO