5:40pm
I am seeing The Trees
The Scrub Spruce
through The Memory
of The Shower of Lights
I am seeing My Reality
My Sanctuary
through The Emblazonment
of Divinity
through My Sense of Self
through My God
augmenting
The Birds, The Waves
The Fog
3:45pm
Southerly Surf resonates
in My Blood —
I’m composed of 50 Trillion Cells
or more —
How many of Them are My Blood
activated
by Each Surge of Sound
moving through Me
moving My Pen
as I sit with Knees up
on The Armless End
of My Tomato-coloured Couch?
The Hawk Deck 1:38 pm
All That I Have Lived For
Adds Up To This Moment
I Have Lost Nothing
–
The Clouds Progress From West To East
–
I Am In My Hour —
My Hour Of Refinement
I’m lying on My Tomato-coloured Couch
— did I say It’s very comfortable?
Looking up at My Crow Painting
— I need My Glasses —
The Living Room Window is Open
to The Southerly Waves
at My Head
with Eliza’s Horse Blanket
over The Rest
We have One Cat
Who Catches Birds
It Breaks My Heart
Every Time I Pick One Up
Off The Deck
headless or legless
to throw down The Toilet
Am I going to have to leave
The Island House
for one more winter?
There are still no buyers
spiders have taken over
Who will ever live out there?
–
WHB just said, “You’re not in any place
where the bad things happened.”
–
Will We keep The Island
in case the power goes out
here on The Hawk?
Will We load up Our Cans
& Sleeping Bags
& boat for The Solace
of That Place so loved
by My Mother
& Me?