The Hawk Queen Bed 12:55am
The Rooster and The Cow Bird
seem far away
and I am in the hard core
of My Sleep Restoration —
I have slept tonight
unaided
yet I have woken
to sweaty pyjamas
a cat washing Her Self
on My Head
and an urge
to get up
and write
of My Victory
The Hawk Beach 7:40pm
I’ve made it to The Guzzle
on one night of less than solid sleep
but adequate
for a first day out
with My Ex Cousin-in-law —
a loose black dog came up behind
as I began My Beach Walk
and for the first time
I was not
terrified
The Hawk Beach 2:57pm
My Father never had Me
or when He did
He pimped Me off
or felt the need
to collect Me from sleepless
hotel rooms —
His Best Hope for Me
(My Brother He had given up on)
was to say,
“You are in ‘Recovery'”
Well — if He could see Me NOW
down by The Guzzle
in The South Wind of July
sitting in The Sand of My Achievement
He might come down from Heaven
or where ever He ended up
and shake My Hand
and send Me on My Way
The Hawk Window Seat 7:40am
On this one month anniversary
since seeing My Good Morning Rainbow
and stopping the poisoning of My Brain
I have woken up to The Pair
of Cow Birds
on My Car Mirror —
the first I have seen
of Her
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:11pm
By this time tomorrow
We’ll have a chorus of cat bells
around the necks of five nude cats
(one hunter has two bells already)
after the fact
of one tiny yellow bird leg
a gut the size of a dime
and three yellow feathers
left by Somebody
on My Sacred Deck
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 6:14pm
I missed the cutest waddle
of a mother duck and Her Ducklings
crossing The Hawk Road
while I was zooming
sleep-deprived
to get to The Little Store —
I swerved to avoid the adorable clutch
and got mad at My Self
but not mad enough to slow down
in time to take in
the rare amusement
of Their very serious venture
The West Desk Window 11:25am
Eliza’s lovely little room
was an assignment
for Me to sleep
and By God I slept —
I slept and woke —
woke and slept and dreamed
and tossed off My Love Ring Quilt
and watched The Sun emerge
from The Eastern Waters —
I listened to the early birds
the crows and gulls
and song birds
and yes, the funny funny Rooster
I watched The Sun hit
the wall by the door
and now I am out of there
I have returned to My Husband
and The Cats —
the old dilapidated comforter
the mismatched sheets
and the open window to The West
Eliza’s Room 8:43pm
As I walked the lines
of shoes and sneakers
measured in the sand
I saw a track of feet so bare
veer off into the frothy foam
I wondered at the line
of tide which consumed
their salty prints
and merely as a bonus
saw
their re-emergence
further on
The Hawk Deck 1:50pm
What Does It Mean
To Be A Bird?
Not Just That You
Can Fly —
You can take care of Your Self —
feed Your Self & Your Young —
(though not Your Young if You’re a Cow Bird)
preen Your Self & bathe
stretch Your Wings & Your Claw Feet
fluff up Your Glistening Feathers & bow
Exclaim from Your Perch —
Yes, Exclaim
in Your God-given Voice
that You are Happy
To Be Alive
Eliza’s Room 9:1pm
From the kitchen
there’s a pink cloud over
The Scraggly Apple
and from upstairs
in Eliza’s Room
The Same Pink Cloud
is stretched along the beach
beyond the wooded scrub spruce
in preparation
for My Good-Night
Joanna Gilman Hyde 