The Hawk Deck 11:10am
The Day On The Deck
Is So Still
I Can Hear The Echo
Of The Crow’s Call
Harsh, Yet Circular
Rising In A Crows’ Chorus
From The Scrub Spruce Nearby
Here Beside Me
Perhaps A Buzz Flies
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:33pm
I sit in That Golden Light
until It, or I,
goes behind A Bank Of Cloud
The Hawk Deck 11:22am
That same spot of Ocean
where I saw The Sun come up
this morning
is vacant now
beyond the scrub spruce —
I cling to It
as one might a heavenly body
in twilight
& perhaps even
say a wish
The Hawk Window Seat 8:30am
I watched for The sun
along the glowing horizon
& when It sparked, It bounced
& shouted out, “Good Morning!”
The Hawk West Desk Window 7:12pm
I painted once
a watercolour sunset
& wrote on the back
“This could be a cover
for The New Yorker”
I gave it to My First Husband
Who put it in His Parents’ attic
Yet tonight I saw My Painting
in real life
out My West Desk Window
in the sky beyond The Cape
edged below by the silhouetted dunes
bathed above by the astonishing pink
I had tried to capture
The Hawk Deck 10:40am
22nd Anniversary of My Mother’s Brain Tumour Diagnosis
I live in a place
where women wear Their Robes
until noon
where cats meander across
other people’s lawns
where The Fall Sun
allows You a final stipend
of sitting on The Deck
where You reflect on a past
You know now
is gone
The Hawk Dining Room 3:53pm
I rest My Chin
in The Child’s Posture
between My Fists
I contemplate The Greyness
of My Ocean
It’s All Mine
nobody
can steal It
away
I
will
hold
It
to
Me
within My Veins
within My Flesh
within My Insides
I Am The Salt
I Am The Water
I Am Here
in The Child’s Stance
The Hawk Portico 4:22pm
On one of these rare days
in early Fall
so still
I’ve decided to stay
on The Hawk
instead of driving to Barrington
for a walk
on The Trail
while Hunter rows —
I cannot miss
this outdoor treat
of sitting in My Red Deck Chair
with My Front Door open
to The Sounds of My Daughter
readying in the kitchen
for tonight’s drive
back to
College
The Hawk Deck 10:40am
I’m a wanna-be Spiritual Leader
I wanna teach Humanity
to love Itself
How corny is that?
Here on My Deck I love
in The Light Of Morning
I wanna cry out
“Love Your Selves!”
The heck with God —
We bumbling Humans
are where It’s At
Look what We can make
of Our Selves
Wanna Bet?
The Hawk Kitchen 7:13pm
There’s something so satisfying
about letting A Fly out
a sliding glass door —
It’s as if all Your Problems
go along with It
& You can stand back
& look at The Sky
in Its sunset-hued pink
& think There Is No Better
Way
Joanna Gilman Hyde 