The Hawk Portico 7:44pm
I have an attitudinal stance
toward The Surf
Its Sound
projects My Hips forward
My Arms are casually folded
My Head juts
from a profile view
I might be sloped like an S
from the back
I would look held in
crouched
like The Nautilus
The Hawk Living Room 5:40pm
“Life Springs Eternal”
from My Fingertips
surrounding My Candle Holder of beer, now,
I am drawn into Golden Bubbles
countless
like The Stars
so why try to count —
Who The Hell Cares
as long as You can
drink Them in
& take That Star Juice
into Your Own Body
for the makings
of Men & Women
Children & Pets?
The Hawk Kitchen 8:08pm
What does The Sky look like
to Juvenile Joanna
sucking Her Right Thumb
but NOT twiddling Her Hair
(It was in braids)
This Sky out the East Kitchen Window
looks like oatmeal
–
From The West Desk Window
The Sky looks like striated years
representing decades
of living, & nearly dying
of having two babies
& losing the third
of having grown children
having no more mother, no father
a second loving husband
& a house from which
to watch The Clouds
The Tomato-coloured Couch 9:15pm
We Wear Our Minds Outside Our Selves:
if Our Hair is Frazzled
We have gone miles
in open wind
–
if Our Bellies are Big
We have gorged Ourselves
on Great Ideas
left under The Table
–
if We Smile
Our Contentment
may mean Our Wanderings
have lead Us
to Our Ends
–
if We Laugh
We are revealing
Our Most Primitive Selves
in defiance
of the psychiatric labels
for which We were sent away
The Hawk Kitchen 7:15pm
I used to announce to Hunter
when I felt a wave of happiness
& now I have felt not The Wave
but The Smooth Line — The Flat Line
of complete fulfilment:
It came in My Kitchen
cooking Fettuccine Alfredo
with spaghetti noodles
& looking out the sink window
to the evening light
on the rocks
lining My Cellar Drive
The Hawk Portico 6:00pm
In the stillness of this evening
I have a call for The Hawk:
The Plaintive Cooing of The Mourning Dove
sounding clean & close above the others
so still am I in My Chair
I hear not even surf
but the buzz of a fly
& the sucking surge of The Grackle
The Hawk Kitchen 10:11pm
Out on My Deck
I drink in The Inspiration
of The Morning
with a North West Wind
at My Back
& coffee steeping
on The Counter inside
where My New Lettered Glass
lures Me to It’s Self
–
*quote from WHB
The Hawk Kitchen 7:50pm
I have drunk My First Beverage
W–A–T–E–R
from My Chalice Divine
standing before My Dramatic Sky
of heavy mauve cloud
& Illuminated Gull
reaching around
to the sea-view
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:38pm
I slept ’till noon
to make up for nightly sleep-deprivation
& got out of bed @ 2:00 this afternoon
to make up for a wasted day
of gathering together the garbage
for garbage day tomorrow
I got showered and dressed
to be presentable for Eliza’s boyfriend
& sat on the portico
to talk on the phone
to an artist friend near Chicago
when above My Front Yard
flew The Graceful Long-legged Heron
slowly traversing the air
above My House
& the heaviness of bed-lying
was long gone
Joanna Gilman Hyde 