The Hawk Portico 5:47pm
I wonder what happened
to The Clothes I left in Atlantic
when I left My Husband
for Dr Blair —
how long did They stay
in the closet Peter built
— My Shoes —
— I can’t remember
what shoes —
did He take Them
to The Salvation Army?
— but Here —
here on The Hawk
where silence greets Me
from My Red Deck Chair
where I can hear a bird fly
or a neighbour’s flag flap
and the surf, always the surf
— Here I needn’t ask —
The Hawk Outpost 9:34am
The Swath Of Silver
Beyond My Post
Blinds Me To Its Essence
But Reminds Me
Of My Security
In My Lovely House
By The Sea
The Hawk Portico 4:45pm
I want to write
My Life Out
in brilliant vibrancy
like the colours
of My Quilt
Purple & Teal
housed now
in a lavender room
by The Sea
(of course)
where I am
happiest
in a red deck chair
on My Front
Stoop
(The Portico)
entertained by amiable neighbours
taken care of
(in case I still need care)
by My
Glowingly Handsome Husband —
let Me write
too
about My Beautiful
Daughter
My Heroic Son
& yes
as the brightest
of all
let Me write
& Write
about My Love
which strings Me along
from water tap
to ocean spray
I drink
from My Glass
named Life
& I live
in Divine
Completeness
Barrington Passage, NS 10:04am
I said “Good Morning!”
to three sets of 2
on The Barrington Bay Trail
and The Morning was
beautiful
when I thought of those
trucks
out of favour with Me now
I was called by A Chickadee
and so She is Timeless
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:30pm
I Spent The Evening
Drenched In Sky
With Flecks Of Cloud
Grey & Gold
Swimming Before Me
Behind My Eyes
The Hawk Deck 7:30pm
I will wear mantles of mauve
purple & blue
turning My Insides out
by the beach-side
rolling in colours
of water & flesh
I will walk on sand
of a trillion suns
& rest, nap in the shade
of My Hands
Summerville Beach August 17th 4:04pm
The Female Or-
gasm Is The Sound Of Un-
iversal Sea Shore
–
Summerville Beach August 18th 10:15pm
drinking my 3rd cup of coffee
with wave upon wave
The Light Of Silver
follows me
out on the water
into my view
into my veins
Barrington Passage, NS 7:20pm
The Light from The West
fell upon the low-treed banks
of Cape Island’s Eastern Shore
& I thought:
“There is My Home —
there is The Island which houses
The Hawk
& I will drive to It
with My Husband of a decade-and-a-half
& I will be Illuminated
by Its Western Light
as We meander tonight
through what We call
The Long Way Home“
The Hawk Deck 11:34am
The Chick-a-dee calls Me
away from My Self
to The Time of My Mother
when My Mother fed Them
& Me
in Valley Cottage
& called to Them
“Chick-a-dee-dee
Chick-a-dee-dee”
Here on The Hawk
Those Little Birds
take Me back
to when I was A Little Girl
raised by a single mother
in My First Real Home
My Real Home Now
is here on The Hawk
Fifty Years Later
where I listen
to The Chick-a-dees
of My Choosing
Joanna Gilman Hyde 