The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:25pm
The House Fly I cupped
in My Right Hand
and released beyond
My Front Door
knows My Scent
and carries It with Him
into Reality
The Hawk Portico 1:45pm
I heard a bull frog
a sort of rubber-y note
very sound of bog
Barrington Passage, NS 12:26pm
I have stepped through
a tunnel of shimmering leaves
calling Me along
by the dappled light
I have breathed in
the hue of fuchsia rose
wild
& heard the lupine
sing out
purple & white
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:15pm
sometimes I cannot get
the words
fast enough
before the pink
spreads itself
out of the sky
& I am left
with My favourite
grey
The Hawk West Desk Window 6:55pm
I Saw The Silver
Before I Left
Beyond The Cape & Islands
It Filled Me Up
With Desire Spent
I Came Back
To Thunder
The Hawk Corner Room 1:43pm
I opened The Corner Room Door
hoping to see A Rainbow
& saw instead The Layered Sky
blue-grey
above The Scrub Spruce Forest
& The Neighbour’s End
of Our Lime-green Hedge
fluttering beneath
& out to The Ocean
One Wave Breaking
as an accent mark
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:22pm
I stare across
to My Neighbour’s Canadian Flag
stretched out & shivering
in the gusts
I feel My Veins quickening
& know too hard
The Eye is self-trained
to soak in The Flickering
& feed It to The Blood
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:26am
Sliding My Glass Door
Bird Song Carries Me Aloft
Yellow Bird’s Clear Ring
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:25pm
Tonight I’ll tell You
what I don’t hear:
the peepers & the waves
are closed out
by south windows shut
against a breeze too cool
— the north bathroom window is open
partially
but not a breath of sea
comes through
— an elderly cat, encouraged
to stay on Our Bed
& purr
has refused the invitation
All that’s left
is Hunter rattling
the spherical wire
inside His Jug
of night time protein drink
consumed
Joanna Gilman Hyde 