The Hawk Deck 8:45pm
duck hunting season is open
this sparkling morning — reverberating
gun fire crashing My Waves
— I’m sick for the flocks
trying to fly south
in order to survive
the winter
The Hawk Portico 5:55pm
I planned to sit down with My Daughter
to have a talk about Her Future
instead She showed Me Her Purchases
from Frenchy’s — designer 2nd hand —
& lovingly cradled Her Louis Vuitton
brown leather hand bag:
“I’ll never let anything happen
to this —
I’ll have It ’till I die
& I’m not joking”
The Hawk Tomato-coloured Couch 6:24pm
I have A Doctor for A Husband
His Name is Dr Blair
He’s away from Me when He’s with His Patients
I was once a patient there
–
He has Silver Hair
& bionic teeth
He supports Me in all I do
when We’re together
all is fine
I know He’ll see Me through
–
In His Office
when He’s away
I’m reluctant to call Him there
when He’s at home
He’s a different man
He is in My Care
The Hawk Living Room 5:23pm
I am situated in A House
by The Open Ocean
A House with sky lights
shooting beams across My Crow Painting
in a cathedral ceilinged Living Room
— the room I lived in before This One
was cathedral ceilinged too
& accommodated
The Shower of Silver Lights
— but I wasn’t going to get into that —
I was going to write
about My Open Window
next to My Tomato-coloured Couch
where I lie here
to take naps
& not to be preoccupied
by saintly hallucinations
The Hawk Deck 10:00am
I’m a real Lady of Leisure:
I’ve just put another coat
of Silver on My Nails
in My Pale Sun Hat
& Nude Night Gown —
The Laundry’s on The Line
& I’m waiting for a phone call
which may or may not
change My Day
The Hawk Deck 6:50pm
I’d like to paint a picture
of The Skyscape before Me
without the interruption of a single bug:
The Clouds are blue & gold
moving to The South
majestic, cumulus
layered above My Ocean
highlighted by The Sun
setting to The West–
here comes one mosquito
The Hawk Kitchen 11:30am
This Morning I lay on My Back
in The New Dentist’s Chair
& looked up to see My Future
emblazoned on The Ceiling:
The Flashes
The Split Seconds
i-dent-i-fied Me
& I had on My Bulletproof Vest
not like The Twilight Star
in red brocade
The Northerly Sound
has moved to North East
as I step out
on My Deck
I feel like writing
The Sky, laden with cloud
is dramatic
The Fog has gone
off shore
Oh — is that Rain?
Now I hear
The Northerly Waves
I have the bottom
of a glass of wine
twelve dollar very dry
I have supper under
the broiler
I have some writing
Joanna Gilman Hyde 