The Hawk West Desk Window 7:04pm
I Lift The Shade
From My Husband’s Nap
To Check The Progress
Of The Sun — It
Lays Out Her Silver
Upon The Bay
An Hour Before The Set
We’ll Watch
The Hawk Portico 3:15pm
I am like a Big Italian Woman
leaning on bare elbows
out an open window
surveying Her Neighbourhood —
does She hear The Birds
as She nods to Her Neighbours
& watches Children on bicycles?
The Hawk Outpost 10:26am
I Lift My Life Glass
To The Silver On The Water
& Watch As One Gull Flies By
Within The Breadth Of A Dappling
Of Cloud
A Fishing Boat On The Horizon
Shimmers In The Mix
Of My Sea
& Sky
&
I
Drink
The Hawk West Desk Window 7:52pm
I have watched The Sun
born out from under a ridge
of grey cloud —
a colour I want to call
purple —
into the clear light
between, now, the upper ridge
and a lower bank
where The Sun burns
Its way down, a molten sphere
into a bottom line of ocean islands
I want to call grey
The Hawk West Desk Window 4:56pm
The tidal outlet
of The Hawk Inlet
is wet with low tide
sheening silver
before the dunes
of The Cape
silhouetted against a silver ocean
seated — I or The Ocean?
through
My Window
Screen
The Hawk Outpost 5:15pm
A Springtime Haze
lies East over the water
— I will not be seeing
The Ocean this evening —
but I have just seen
A Flock Of Six Geese
— at least I think
They were Geese —
flying along the shore
against The Light
of The Sun
in transit
The Hawk Outpost 7:28pm
Oh My God The Sky Is Beautiful
Layer Upon Layer Of Silky Cloud
Coloured In The Softest Blues
With Warmer Cream At The Horizon
& Mottled Grey At The Height
To Which I Tilt My Head
& Eyes
The Hawk Queen Bed 11:40am
Do We Own The Peepers
In Our Muskrat Pond?
Do We Own The Birds
Upon Our Lawn?
–
The Mourning Dove Upon A Wire
Is In My View
And My Desire
–
I May Claim The Waves
In My Broad Reach
And Walk Along Their Salty Beach
–
Yet All I Love
In What Surrounds
Holds Me Close
Within Its Bounds
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:38pm
There’s A Bog
On Our Property
It Comes Alive With The Peepers
Awakening Here Tonight
Our First Night With The Window Open
To Listen To One — or — Three
Peeping Away For A Mate — or — Two
Entrancing Me
The Hawk Outpost 2:27pm
I’ve taken to leaning My Elbows
on The Hawk Kitchen Outpost —
a narrow window looking East
perfect for One Person
From My Stance I can see
the backs of My Neighbour’s Barns
top branches of one deciduous tree
and two roof lines down by the shore
The Ocean spreads Itself before Me
and I can see white lines of waves
coming in
through a sizeable break
in the swath of scrub spruce
encircling this
Our Little Island
Joanna Gilman Hyde 