WEEKEND MORNING
The Hawk Deck 9:48am
The Waves Are Still
In The Quiet Fog
The Coffee Steeps
I Read My Blog
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The Hawk Deck 9:48am
The Waves Are Still
In The Quiet Fog
The Coffee Steeps
I Read My Blog
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:00pm
There Was No Little Yellow Bird
In The Scraggly Apple
When I Said My Prayer
Today
But The Waves Were There
The Waves Heard Me
And So My Prayer
Is Answered
The Hawk Queen Bed 7:35am
I Hear The Surf Surge Through
My Open Black Window
& One Solitary Fog Horn Echoing
As If It Were Six
The Hawk Queen Bed 6:30pm
I Am A Baby
In A Bassinet On A Beach
How Many Of Us Have Been Born On The Surging Crest?
How Many Of Us Will Die Upon The Ebb?
I Am Rocked To Sleep
By The Rhythm
I Am Awakened
To My Infancy
Pubnico, NS 10:22am
I am driving Home
A New Message
there — I see that tree I remember
I climbed It as a little kid
& now It is The Mighty Oak
Out There I See The Ocean
with tidal flats before
I hear The Waves
high under The Full Moon
pushing Me onward
to The Self
I think I know
so well
The Hawk Deck 3:00pm
What Is In My World?
My Devoted Husband, soon-to-be-retired
My Darling Daughter, still up in the air
as far as school goes
My Children’s Grandfather languishing
in the little local hospital
under the care of Dr David H. Wilson
and so the perpetual ocean waves
draw Me in
Joanna Gilman Hyde 