ALL-OUT HUMAN
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:05pm
I watched a society
of starlings
pecking in My Front Yard
while I realized
I am limiting My SELF
with this Second Coming of Christ
notion
and a white vehicle
drove past and scared
the birds away
The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:05pm
I watched a society
of starlings
pecking in My Front Yard
while I realized
I am limiting My SELF
with this Second Coming of Christ
notion
and a white vehicle
drove past and scared
the birds away
The Hawk Corner Room 5:14pm
Today The Ocean
went from Blue
to Grey
& I sat above It
to contemplate
My Self —
& do You know what
I discovered?
That with My Husband
reading War & Peace
beside Me
I can say anything
in The World
& be heard
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:45am
Last Night I slept
with the window opened a crack
to let in a nip of Spring
This Morning
and the first song
of birds
The Hawk Kitchen 8:20am
The Glare
of
Silver fills
My Hawk Outpost
Window
beaming out to Me
I stare
& see the afterglow
of
familiar lime green
when I
blink
The Hawk Corner Room 11:02am
How must I write
of the peacefulness
of The Morning —
under the snow
— last for spring —
under brilliant sun
shining its silver
off the sea
I will not row
today
The Hawk Kitchen 4:41pm
The First Recognizable
Call
I’ve heard for Spring
is that of The Jay
My Childhood Friend
with the tumult
of waves
breaking through
the new rain
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:05am
My purple pyjama-ed knees
are propped
up in Our Bedroom of mild green
— did I say wild?
My Journal upon My Lap
coffee at My Side
& the snow of this endless winter
blows across
My Eyes
The Hawk Window Seat 8:54am
The Snow serves one purpose —
to delineate the length
of The Cape
along the southwest
view from Our Bedroom
Window
It makes a delicate white line
below the dunes —
a highlight of sand
I might fail to notice
in Summer
The Hawk Outpost 8:19am
The blinding glare of sun
off the water
lies on this first day of spring
yet We are set, still
inside deep winter
with stars of light
glinting off My ice-covered
deck
The Hawk Outpost 7:15pm
The early evening light
light of spring
still in mid-winter temperatures
lays itself across
the yard, weeding its way
through The Scraggly Apple
turning pinkish gold upon
My Favourite Spruce
lighting up the rooftop gables
down by the Eastward shore