The Hawk Outpost 8:00pm
I see a star-scape
in the canopy
of very cold snow —
One Flake
has Me transfixed
by Its glittering reflection
from an indirect
light
of something as mundane
as the deck lamp
The Hawk Kitchen 12:28pm
My Kitchen is My
Viewing Station
through glass doors
& arched window
over the sink
I can see hawks
schools of tiny birds
like an aquarium
against an ever-changing
cloud-scape —
to the right
I have the delight
of The Kitchen Outpost
— a smaller window
facing My Enormous
Expanse
of salty shore line
ever-changing in the weather
of the sea
The Hawk Outpost 5:00pm
I am wearing
the colours
of sea & sky
meshed with The Silver
in My Heart
& Mind
I am moving with the clouds
of mauve
in the late afternoon light
of My Retirement
from Babyhood
into The Child’s Place
of wonder
Eliza’s Room 2:30pm
I live in a lavender room
where I have pulled up
the curtain against a backdrop
of rolling waves
and scrub spruce tree tops
above a painted chest
housing My Mother’s Childhood Diaries
I am sanctified
in My Daughter’s Room
where The Out-stretched Quilt
of rippling bands of purple
spreads Itself beneath two walls
of My World Trade Center Rooftop Painting
titled Self Organizing Galaxy
and beneath My Signature
in three-foot-high letters
coloured Black
The Hawk Outpost 5:20pm
I am kneading in line
with The Low Line of Lichen
wrapped around Our Scraggly Apple
matching up with The Linear Extension of Scrub Spruce
against which The Apple’s Naked-tipped Tops
reach for The Sky’s Haze of Pink
I put My home made dough
to rise
The Hawk Dining Room 11:09am
I catch The Silver Glare
off The Ocean beyond
a neighbour’s shed
The Sky is paraded
by a scattering of cloud
I sit in The Light
to write of My Day
to tell The World
I Am Staking My Claim
The Hawk Kitchen 5:01pm
I looked up from cutting
My Potatoes
and took in My Breath
seeing The First Illuminaton
of an otherwise nondescript day
— The Sun had broken through
in The West
and to The East I saw
The Scraggly Apple
and bank of scrub spruce
momentarily
tinged with Gold
The Hawk Dining Room 8:24am
If I could paint The Sky
this morning
It would be a WOW Sky
blending into The Ocean
with lateral lines of pinkish light
Sky Light
coming through the breaks
in blue-grey clouds
with Golden Wash above
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:27pm
The Sun beams in on Me
through My Psychotic Haze
subsided — I no longer
hear songs on the radio
as messages to Me Alone
I no longer see blazing signs
of futuristic Life & Love
My Halo has vanished
I am “settled” now —
a word the hospital used —
I even heard & saw
A Lone Goose fly overhead
while I shovelled off
the paltry snow
from the front steps —
there too in The Sun —
& The Goose
carried no significance
other than He
must be lost
while I am found
The Hawk Kitchen 10:15pm
My Tall Black Cat
sits by the door
of glass
looking out to the snowy deck
turning back
to Me
to mew
Joanna Gilman Hyde 