The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:38am
The Ocean looks
like A Silver Bar
polished as if One
would polish
an old silver bar
regulated to The Sky
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:32am
I watch The Play
of Silver on The Sea
My Horizon Line
is one streak
The Sky affords another look
at molten clouds
luminescent above
The Depths of seething
Grey
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:17am
Out on My Deck, briefly
to assess The Silver Sea
as I stood on a mat of rope
A Humming Bird came to Me —
was it My Fuchsia Pyjama Top
which prompted saying “Hi”?
Or was He alerting Me
to The Importance of My Day
before He said “Good-bye”?
May 19, 2015 The Hawk Queen Bed 10:06pm
Sometimes The Wind and Tide
combine to augment
The Sound as It is delivered
of The Waves accompanied
by Peepers, heightened by Peepers
to calm The Way
to Sleep
*only truth pertaining to Me uttered by the psychiatrist I had for eight years
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 6:15pm
The Sky is a watercolour wash —
have I said that before?
Probably — One Stripe
is the same as The Ocean
& so includes Itself
as a partition
of liquid cloud
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:48am
Listen to Our Ocean
out across Our Land
It sings Its rhythmic waves
in chimes of soothing rush
The push and pull
of a distant shore
against an open window
delights Me more
for a shallow sleep
than dreams I have in store
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:48pm
In The Jordan Bay House
Howard and Eye were put to bed
at 8 o’clock
with late evening sun
pouring in over the ridge
to the west of our Grandparents’
It came through uncurtained windows
as We lay in Our Beds
tired from Our Days
at the shore
or helping in Granmamma’s garden
or Pappy’s workshop —
those were the domains
of Our Grandparents while Our Mother
worked on Her Island House
half a harbour away
where She would sleep
forever when She died
with sheep walking over
Her Grave
The Hawk Kitchen 8:07am
The Vibrancy of Silver
is awash across the water
filling My Kitchen
with bright rays of light
I wait for the coffee to steep
to write of My Days
here in the quiet
of My Sufficient Sleep
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 2:30pm
Oh if I had ever rode
inside a big yellow school bus
along the pristine coast
of Cape Sable Island
how much knowledge would
I have gathered?
Would I have married
a lobster fisherman
& had Five Children
all different
from My Own?
Would I have watched
Them board the bus
seeking its way through
the scrub spruce
beside the open ocean
turning to My Kitchen
& perhaps to My Pen?
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:29am
The End of The Cape
looks as if It’s melting
into the shallow sea
The Sand at Its base
seems hazed over
while The Dunes look solid
enough to hike upon
I’ve never been out there
Joanna Gilman Hyde 