The Hawk West Desk Window 8:15pm
The Sky I Cannot Paint
For It Would Soak Its Way
Slowly From Pale Grey
Into Mottled Blue
Feathering At The Horizon
Encasing The Far Reaches Of Sea
And Off Shore Islands
Within A Veiled Hand
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:53pm
He was A Starling
innocent and frightened
by My Maniacal Driving
swooping into His Flock
He hit the front of My Car —
on My Way Back from picking up a pizza
yes, pizza!
He lay in the middle of the road
The Hawk Deck NOON
Do Birds Ever get Their Calls
Mixed Up
& Sing To The Wrong Mate?
The Hawk Deck 10:25am
That Sun is dazzling again
out over the water
turning The Sea
into a shield of stars
tiny and profuse
The Hawk Deck 12:22pm
What makes a songbird sing?
What life force bursts forth
through every tune?
Is it a call to a mate
or simply the sound
of a beautiful morning?
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:45pm
If Human Beings
Are Stars, What Are Animals —
Star Dust Nebulae?
June 19, 2014 The Hawk Dining Room
I have seen The Emblem
of Canada
before the pink sky
animated
by a song on the radio*
dancing
not to gusty wind
but toward a place
in My Mind
*Natasha Bedingfield “Unwritten”
The Hawk Portico 5:05pm
We are sucked to The Ocean
like little girls
in tiny suits
lolling
in the salty surf
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:25pm
I was toying with writing
of the subtlety
of the sunset tonight
— especially to The North East —
but before bed
I looked West
to a fiery stage
orange-red
&
so
I
ignite
Joanna Gilman Hyde 