The Hawk Outpost 9:41am
I am standing in The Light
of Our Decorated Star
squinting My Eyes
against Its Brightness
The Glass Door is open
not to let Me out
but to let The Song
of The Morning Birds
Culminate
The Hawk Outpost 10:15am
Sun — I guess It’s Sun —
filters through the fog
of a spring morning
I am in My Grey
C2 Rowing Outfit
Hunter is sleeping late
Eliza is on Her Way
to fun
& fame
The Hawk Kitchen 7:12pm
I wonder if I’ll ever be
an old woman
with a kerchief over My Head
working in a garden
with rubber boots
and black soil
staining My Bony Hands
The Hawk Outpost 5:05pm
Cream-coloured Breakers
Hail Slate-blue Atlantic
Overseen By Sun
The Hawk Outpost 3:10pm
It’s A Nova Scotia Day
— I Can Tell Just By Looking —
The Wind Is More Than Brisk
Waves Are Breaking
Farther Out
Amidst The White Caps
The Air Is Clear
& My Big Black Cat Astro
Wants To Come In
The Hawk Outpost 9:00am
My Sky Is Silver
Cutting Along The Edge
Of Cold Grey Ocean
Our Waves Are Bigger
This Morning
Due To The Wind Last Night
I Am In My Silver Robe
Watching A Break
Of Light
Over
This Worldly Turbulence
The Hawk Kitchen 6:08pm
There’s A Bay Window
At My Kitchen Door
Where I Can Stand Northward
To Be Surrounded
By Trees And Yard
And Sky, Clouds, Ocean To The East
To The West Our Muskrat Pond
And A New Testament
Baptist Church
On The Hill
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:36am
The Silver Streaks, magnificent
are encapsulated
within My Mind
& I know They’re out there
on the water
& in The Grey Clouds, lateral
edged in white
I know The Silver Scape
is there
because I see It
though It shifts
on the horizon
I hold It
fixed
The Hawk West Desk Window 7:57pm
Tonight I had to throw out
Our entire supper of fish
to the gulls and crows
— it was tainted —
and then in a fit
of generosity
I threw out Our bread
best by today
and three English muffins
dated March 18th
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:15pm
There’s a purple cloud
out there now
with The Peepers going
It’s a scene, Man
A Scene
&
I Love It
Joanna Gilman Hyde 