Here I sit to watch
The Vertical Drizzle
outside the confines of The Portico
with The Waves
through The Rain
to watch A Cat
return
before My Naturally Bleach-Blond Daughter
emerges to ask
why I’m sitting in the rain
& If Her Perfect Make Up
is
OK
for
Poker
Super Store, Yarmouth, Nova Scotia
From Super Store Bathroom Stall
to a toddler:
“Yes, We bought lots —
for Josie, Mom & Dad —
so We won’t run out”
–
By The Dressing Room
beyond open cartons from China & Cambodia
to a little girl showing off Her Dress:
“Yes, that’s a beautiful dress —
hold onto Your Balloon!”
–
On The Deck of Rudder’s:
3 burly fishermen
w/ 2 skinny Japanese fish buyers
& One Gull
Who landed on a table
behind Eliza —
My Seventeen-year-old Daughter
Who rode to Yarmouth
with the latest Vogue
open on Her Lap
–
I came home with a Solid Gold
floor mat
for My Kitchen
Oh It was a shock alright —
twenty years after My Mother’s Brain Tumour
and have I recovered?
I think so, at least the waves
are telling Me so, and The Cats, Crows
Willets & Gulls. The Sky tells Me so.
–
I hear a Willet now, over
the Southern End of The Hawk —
I am very happy Here
where nothing can get Me.
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
I suddenly feel older
by more than the fifteen years
since I dolefully reclined
in a wicker chaise longue
on the screened-in porch
built by My First Husband
— a porch sought for My Sanity —
yet used so briefly
I wonder how I remember it at all
–
This Deck I’m on now
in My Maturity
is an outpost for reverence
of All My Surroundings
occupied daily in good weather
and always in Good Mind:
I am healed now
— I long for nothing —
and have grown up
into The Full Observer
I was as The Child
I See A Piece Of The Universe
on My Husband’s Urban Tribe Sweater
washed in Tide
in and out Tide
& dried in Bounce
to get The Fuzz off —
but I’m afraid
I’ll have to use
The Lint Brush
Now
What Do I See On My Lint Brush?
dat De-Press-ion ain’t
gonna git Me agin
no matta how It come
lurkin’ around
–
It ain’t gonna stop Me
from doin’ de dishes
–
eatin’ Ma suppa
–
It ain’t gonna stop Me
from drivin’ wid Ma Baby Girl
out to La Creamy
Treat
in de settin’ sun
How grateful I am
for the rustling hedge
for The Second Labatt’s Blue
there in The Fridge
H–‘s upstairs finishing
a nap
Eliza’s been horsed
all that’s left
is supper
on tap
I see The Pink Cloud
that spawned Me
easing its way over
the salty horizon
Oh — now it’s grey
& I’m in The Latter Half
of My Existence
here on Earth
where I can log
& watch
The Sky
I’m having a Graffiti Problem:
Saturday Night I Painted
A Pentagram Star, Red,
with Silver Rays
on A Rock
in My Friend’s Backyard
— She said I could Paint
Anything I Wanted —
She said, “I Love It!”
but now Her 17 year old Daughter
doesn’t Love It
& I’ve been asked
to paint
a starfish
Joanna Gilman Hyde 