The Hawk Deck 12:42pm
The Gull’s Raucous Cry
is every sound of Salt Air
rising above Its neighbours’
murmurings
It crowns the calls
of all other birds
& rings in the start
of Summer
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:40pm
We Lay In Our Beds
Flattened Against The Night
All Around One Half
Of The Globe
Only To Dream Of What Might
Happen
When We Raise
Our Selves
Up
The Hawk Deck 3:00pm
I Have Seen The Perfect
Nautilus
Within My Universal Vision
— the sink It was —
Showing Me The Perfect
Form Of Reproduction
& Through My Chaos
of hand-washing
I Diffused The Spiral
Only To Let It
Re-set
in ever-smaller
smatterings
The Hawk Deck 8:30pm
Will The Low Cooing
Of The Mourning Dove
Be The Sound Of The Hawk
When I Leave?
Or Will It Be The Waves
I’ll Hear As I Head Out
Into The Night Of My Future
Seeking Only
To Find
The Repetitions?
The Hawk Deck 7:47pm
All That I Have Lived For
Is Wrapped Up In This Moment
As I Am Wrapped In My Heavy Grey Bathrobe
With The Spears Of Light Forever Above Me
And All Down Around Me
How Have I Gotten This Far?
Through A Child’s Adoration Of A Pair
Of Love Birds To A Mother’s Love
Of Her Dearest 2.4’s
The Evening Light Is Upon The East
Illuminating The Scrub Spruce Forest
And I Have Come This Far
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:38pm
A Black-headed Gull
blown in from the storm
circled over Me
as I threw
bits of bread
on the newly cut lawn
He landed beside Me
for probably the first
square meal
He’s had since
He was carried to Us
Joanna Gilman Hyde 