The Hawk Corner Room 6:52pm
We have A Picture Window in Our House
on The East Side upstairs
overlooking The Atlantic by a 180 degree expanse
across ocean, light houses and sky —
without This Opening I would be cut off
from Those Eastern pinks of Sun
setting behind Me
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:37pm
God is sitting above
a sky-black plate
eating Her bagel sandwich
dropping an array of crumbs
on the outcropping
of The Cosmos
The Hawk Portico 2:00pm
I have the luxury of gazing
out over the azure blue
of The Atlantic Ocean
of listening to The Gulls and Crows
for Whom I must be some small part
of Their World
as They are such a large part
of Mine
The Hawk Deck 9:57am
Were I to lose My Eyesight
could I still see The Patches Of Colour
The Sparkly Lights
I’m free to see now
whenever I close My Eyes
or would I be immersed in Pitch Blackness
& what does Pitch Black really look like?
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:22pm
On My Way To The Mail Box
I Passed A Roadside Spread Of Asters
Pale Lavender Star-shapes Against The Golden Grass
And Auburn Leaves Of Fern — There Was No Mail
But As You Can Guess
That Hardly Matters
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 Tomato-coloured Couch 5:33pm
I sit in That Golden Light
until It, or I,
goes behind A Bank Of Cloud
The Hawk Deck 11:22am
That same spot of Ocean
where I saw The Sun come up
this morning
is vacant now
beyond the scrub spruce —
I cling to It
as one might a heavenly body
in twilight
& perhaps even
say a wish
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:45pm
I have delivered A Prayer
— The First I’ve Ever Written —
through The Sacred Postal Service
but I don’t know how
My Children’s Grandfather
will receive It
The Hawk Window Seat 8:30am
I watched for The sun
along the glowing horizon
& when It sparked, It bounced
& shouted out, “Good Morning!”
Joanna Gilman Hyde 