The Hawk Portico 3:00pm
The Waves Today Remind Me
of Children Playing
uneven in Their Tumult
sporadic in Their Breaking
–
Yes, I have read of The Accident
but My Observations
were gathered
beforehand
The Hawk Portico 5:24pm
The Waves are brusque tonight
& the sky is grey
I’m on My Second Beer
after a day of recovering from “My Spell”
in-which I lost My Decisiveness
& other people had to plan for Me
I am not altogether comfortable in These States
luckily They don’t happen often
but They can & do
in the unlikeliest of places
like Sobey’s
or some other zoo
–
I freeze up
not knowing what to think
or My Thinking’s Hung
temporarily shut down —
the only fortification I respond to
is the Kindness of Others
& I have always been met with Kindness
Out Beyond My Neighbour’s Flagpole
I See An Individual Wave Cresting
I See It Before I Hear It
& Then In The Calm
It Rolls My Way
The Hawk Deck 6:42pm
What is It that makes A Poem?
Is It the induction of waves
louder now than usual —
or is It a lost conversation
with a Siamese cat named Moulan
(Who seemed to be listening too)
or is It a reminder
when eating canned peaches
that I made a giant sculpture once
“Peaches & Blades”
going floor to ceiling
filling the lobby of Cooper Union’s 4th floor?
Is this A Poem?
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?
Joanna Gilman Hyde 