The Hawk Deck 3:03pm
We are into Late Summer now
I need a sweater on
in The Shade of The Afternoon Deck
I sit across from The Steps
with The Strata
of Leafy Hedge
Scrub Spruce
Ocean
& Sky
before
Me
The Hawk Deck 8:55am
It’s warming up
to a beautiful day
I Am Ushering In My Life
out on The Deck
I Am Eating My Banana
in a contemplative mode
listening, as always, to North Eastern Surf
dressed in My Robe
of Warm Silver
The Hawk Window Seat 8:40pm
The Sky is half pink
half silver grey
with A Three-quarter Moon
above The Lighthouse
glinting through The Scrub Spruce
to My Bedside
The Hawk West Desk Window August 13, 2013 11:19pm
I no longer think of The Island
as the insular respite I shared each summer
— shared as a pair of stalwarts
as I did with My Mother —
I now think of the broad expanse
of Nova Scotia imperialized
by Its undulating shoreline
to The South
housing Me now
permanently
on an island
off an island
and beyond
The Hawk Living Room 3:17pm
My Seething Insides
can be delved into
examined under glass
for the purpose
of Human Kind
I am One Example
of The Seven or more
Billion Specimens
here for the purpose
of knowing
Themselves
as They would know
God
The Hawk Deck 2:05pm
Am I The Fluffy Beige Cat
Lounging On Her Deck
Or Am I The Strutting Grey Gull
Looking For A Hand-out?
2:15pm
Everything Is Magical
I Am In The Realm
Of Magic Realism
9:27pm
The Moon Is Up There
Gold Against The Backdrop
Of Teal Showing Off
The Planet Venus
The Hawk Deck 9:48am
The Waves Are Still
In The Quiet Fog
The Coffee Steeps
I Read My Blog
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:15pm
Every September after Labour Day
Our Pets
recognized the smell of Rockland County
by lifting Their Noses to the humid air
crossing the Tapanzee Bridge
happy to be coming back
to Their Most Familiar Grounds
overgrown with dried leaves
and neglect —
They couldn’t be aware
of Our Mother’s apprehensions
for a house vacated by summer tenants:
She usually said
“The House isn’t too bad”
but complained about the yard
while I adjusted to sleeping
in the dark dense air
of My School Year Room
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:00pm
There Was No Little Yellow Bird
In The Scraggly Apple
When I Said My Prayer
Today
But The Waves Were There
The Waves Heard Me
And So My Prayer
Is Answered
Joanna Gilman Hyde 