The Tomato-coloured Couch 11:44am
Black Jesus is now driving
a new white Silverado
I saw Him at The Clyde River Exit
& followed Him into Sobey’s in Barrington
where He parked
at The Yellow Sign On The Cart Corral:
“In The Event Of Emergency Gather Here”
He parked in an assembly
of White Vehicles
while I walked into The Store
to get some Cat Food
& fruit for My Sick Daughter
The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:22pm
I am a little girl
hair in braids
clutching My Tabby Cat
listening to My Mother
–
I am a self-sufficient teenager
riding My Bike
on My Paper Route
making My Teachers happy
wanting to be a helicopter pilot
an artist on the side
–
I am a young mother
homesteading with a handsome family man
approved of by My Mother
having Our Babies*
before & soon after Her Death
–
I am an “older” woman now
reviewing two marriages
children grown
houses changed with assorted cats
& somehow I am happy
not too far from My Own Mind
*one who was aborted on March 27, 1997
The Hawk Deck 2:50pm
There is something like magic
in the stillness here
with only The Birds
— even They have settled —
the breeze is lulling
I cannot even hear the surf
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:30pm
I married Him under apple boughs
on The Island of My Mother
and when She died
six years later
I would love another
–
I went to see Our Marital House
to see Eliza there
to deliver dishcloths
She was wanting
to see how She had cared
enough to put a sprig of apple
in a bottle neck deep and red
It glowed upon a kitchen sill
I have nothing left to dread
no more hurting husbands
no more dying pets
I am free now
in My Life
even to forget
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:15pm
I do not wonder at My Father’s Death —
how It was for Him
as I wonder at My Mother’s
My Father may have been asleep —
He died in the night
as far as I know
but My Mother was wide, wide
awake
& blazed Her Eyes open
except for one torturous blink
which opened back up
in Her Last Guttural Heave
The Tomato-coloured Couch 12:15pm
This Morning My Daughter reported waking
to the song of multitudinous bird-life
the dehumidifier tray was full
but She had no hot water
in The Atlantic House —
My First Marital Home
with Eliza’s Father
Who picked the colours
& built an addition
complete with screened-in porch
off Our New Bedroom
I sat out there in the shelter of the screens
in My Post-Mother’s-Death Depression
& wondered, along with everyone else,
why I was not happy
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:30pm
She left tonight for Her Cottage —
Eliza’s Cottage — The Atlantic House She partially grew up in
It’s fifteen minutes closer to Her Summer Job
& She took the dehumidifier from The Hawk
to get the dampness out
She took Her Vegan Food from the cupboards
& left most of Her Clothes in Her Closet
The Lincoln She left in was making Its high-pitched scary noise
but She drove away
anyway
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:11pm
I hear The Peepers through My Left
Surf out to My Right
My Left Hand rests on My Husband’s Thigh
My Pills I’ve taken for The Night
The Day is closing, nondescript
though visited Mother-in-law (ex)
to make sure Eliza’s Prom Dress zipped
(It did)
made home-made pizza —
was a hit
in bed now, early
quit
The Hawk Basement 3:30pm
I have two poems
swirling around in My Head:
The First represents The Shadow of a trinket
bauble, gem, charm, jewel
cast upon My Basement Wall
to the immediate right
of My Rowing Machine’s Arm
It is The Configuration
of a diamond ring
tipped to the right
& out from underneath It
falls, clatters
a rain of darker pieces, shapes
of raw concrete
spilling to the floor
meeting the extension of The Shadow
cast by the elongated arm
–
The Second is of My Mother & My Daughter:
While I was driving to pick up My Daughter
The Shadow of My Mother took over, briefly
& the car in front of Me
held My Daughter’s initials
& I, as Mother & Daughter
was The Bridge
I am The Bridge
Joanna Gilman Hyde 