The Tomato-coloured Couch 12:15pm
This Morning My Daughter reported waking
to the song of multitudinous bird-life
the dehumidifier tray was full
but She had no hot water
in The Atlantic House —
My First Marital Home
with Eliza’s Father
Who picked the colours
& built an addition
complete with screened-in porch
off Our New Bedroom
I sat out there in the shelter of the screens
in My Post-Mother’s-Death Depression
& wondered, along with everyone else,
why I was not happy
The Hawk Portico 7:44pm
I have an attitudinal stance
toward The Surf
Its Sound
projects My Hips forward
My Arms are casually folded
My Head juts
from a profile view
I might be sloped like an S
from the back
I would look held in
crouched
like The Nautilus
The Hawk Kitchen 8:08pm
What does The Sky look like
to Juvenile Joanna
sucking Her Right Thumb
but NOT twiddling Her Hair
(It was in braids)
This Sky out the East Kitchen Window
looks like oatmeal
–
From The West Desk Window
The Sky looks like striated years
representing decades
of living, & nearly dying
of having two babies
& losing the third
of having grown children
having no more mother, no father
a second loving husband
& a house from which
to watch The Clouds
The Hawk Kitchen 7:15pm
I used to announce to Hunter
when I felt a wave of happiness
& now I have felt not The Wave
but The Smooth Line — The Flat Line
of complete fulfilment:
It came in My Kitchen
cooking Fettuccine Alfredo
with spaghetti noodles
& looking out the sink window
to the evening light
on the rocks
lining My Cellar Drive
The Hawk Portico 6:00pm
In the stillness of this evening
I have a call for The Hawk:
The Plaintive Cooing of The Mourning Dove
sounding clean & close above the others
so still am I in My Chair
I hear not even surf
but the buzz of a fly
& the sucking surge of The Grackle
The Hawk Kitchen 10:11pm
Out on My Deck
I drink in The Inspiration
of The Morning
with a North West Wind
at My Back
& coffee steeping
on The Counter inside
where My New Lettered Glass
lures Me to It’s Self
–
*quote from WHB
The Hawk Kitchen 7:50pm
I have drunk My First Beverage
W–A–T–E–R
from My Chalice Divine
standing before My Dramatic Sky
of heavy mauve cloud
& Illuminated Gull
reaching around
to the sea-view
The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:00pm
My Mother told Me I couldn’t carry a tune
so She put Me in a crinkly black tutu
& expected Me to dance
I was the clumsy conundrum
My Teachers couldn’t figure out
I was Cinderella in French
& Teacher’s Pet in Junior High Science
I didn’t like High School
with One Peculiar Friend
Who wanted to get high
at lunch
My Mother put Me into Her College —
a small liberal arts school in up state New York
where I took all the art I could get
& transferred into Cooper Union in New York City
After graduating I decided
to paint the most visible roof in the world:
#5 World Trade Center
& was given permission by The Port Authority of NY & NJ
In 1984 I signed My Name
to the ten-thousand square-foot canvas
in three-foot high letters
I wore a crinkly black skirt
filmed by German Television
& three decades later
is on You Tube
The Hawk Deck 12:40pm
I have been called to write
by the high urgency
of The Willet
here in My Sanctuary
The Call of The Wild
alerts Me to The Strife
of Humanity
I know exists
but from which
I am graciously
exiled
JB’s Barrington Passage 2:11pm
I saw A Star Man
in My Beer
DNE (singularity)
on a license plate
& My Girlfriend gave Me
magic earrings
for the day I was born
here I am looking
to the foggy Causeway Beach
ready for the all-clear
Joanna Gilman Hyde 