NEW DAY
The Hawk Corner Room NOON
Iron Blue Ocean
fortifies with another
year under My Belt
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The Hawk Corner Room NOON
Iron Blue Ocean
fortifies with another
year under My Belt
The Hawk Deck 11:35am
I am not beyond writing
how good I feel
sitting in the sun
in the privacy of My Deck
I look to the ocean
for inspiration
& find all I need
within The Self I am today
— A Supreme Self
basking in the knowledge
of all things
coming to good
Ultimately
The Hawk Deck 10:06am
I Am Guarding My Ocean
I Am Watching For Birds
To Record Their Song
Accompanying Each Moment
Of Scenic Bliss
A Dog Barks, A Neighbour Calls
To Another
While I Sit
In My Red Deck Chair
Taking Stock
The Hawk Deck 11:42pm
I Am White Jesus
sitting in a sun hat
sounding out individual waves
from the overview of surf
savouring the tranquillity
of My Eternal Youth
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:50am
Yesterday I threw away
My Silver Voodoo Star Man
an Object I had told My Self
was My Most Precious Possession —
well — The Sea possesses
Him Now —
The Silver of Him
is consumed
by The Majesty
of The Glinting Ocean
behind
My
Eyes
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?
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
My Husband/Doctor tells Me
The Sound of The Waves
works on The Pleasure Centres
of My Brain
like a narcotic, like opium
or nicotine or cocaine
& I say The Sound relaxes & invigorates–
I am addicted to The Surf–
It crept up on Me
over the course of these two years
& I never knew I could be so healthy
The Jays of Valley Cottage
mix with The Crows of Nova Scotia
I could hear Them
before writing
but now that My Book is out
open on My Lap
I hear the swooshing of The Hedge
& guess The Next Bird To Be–
–I have no guess–
–I’m waiting to hear–
a car pulls into a driveway
a neighbour tinkers in His Shed
so I move to The South of The House
–to The Portico–
where Those Waves are a woosh
with Gulls more audible
& now too, a Jay
I stepped out on The Deck
into The Early Morning Sun
— with My Clipboard, Pencil
Cup of Coffee — I looked out at The Atlantic
& decided to be A Writer.
–
I determined to fix A Poem:
The Greatest Date — written A Decade Ago —
–
I would fix The Ending mostly —
isn’t it The End
which usually needs attention?
–
& worked away
in That Dazzling Sun, in old sunglasses,
listening to The Breaking Waves, Birds
& My Husband stirring in The Kitchen
feeding The Cats
Joanna Gilman Hyde 