The Hawk Living Room 7:30pm
I ate My Potato Salad
& drank a beer
here by the open Living Room Window
at the edge of The Tomato-coloured Couch
but that was at the edge of The Galaxy
where stars burst & die
I would lie My Head on a blanket
& listen to the aftershocks
wafting through
on the surge
of ocean mist
& bird call
The Hawk Queen Bed 2:22pm
In Bed in lavish purple
bedding & robe & calico cat
window open to the spring
I sit This Afternoon
with My Worn Out Husband
on the remnants
of a stomach bug, He & I
reading financial reports
off His Nexus Tablet
& planning how He can keep
working, rowing
& feeding the cats
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:30pm
There’s a man out of The Tub
Who doesn’t belong to Me
He’s My Husband in name only
& stands at My Side
to watch The Opalescent Sky
& The Sun go down
with Bands of Cloud
The Hawk Queen Bed 8:57pm
Yesterday on The Trail
in Barrington Bay
I heard The Willets
The Sound of Childhood
in Jordan Bay
My Grandfather wrote
about The Willet’s song
in Anchorage Northeast:
“My own ear has seldom caught “Willet”
in the famous and far-piercing call.
To me it is pilly-will-wee,
with the accent on the last syllable,
or pill-wee-wee, with the accent
on the second,
in either case repeated over and over
and virtually always in flight.
It is a high, hurrying, questioning cry,
urgent of something I can only imagine,
a glad sound on the bird’s coursings of the shore,
a call of fulfillment(sic)
and the June-morning glory
of being alive and a-wing.”
Howard Talbot Walden 2nd
Anchorage Northeast p.189
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:33pm
What happened to That Long-haired Girl
Who painted That Giant Canvas
on The Roof of #5 World Trade Center?
I heard She turned 52
& writes in Her Journal
sitting on Her Tomato-coloured Couch
in Her astral-cork-floored living room
surrounded by beaches & dunes
waves & bird life
while Her Son starts a tree-planting job out West
& Her Daughter finishes correspondence courses
for Her Last Year
of High School
The Hawk Kitchen 10:22am
I watch the thorough glitter
out on The Water
through The Window Screen
(it’s too windy to sit outside)
My Husband’s Blood Pressure
is precarious
making Me jittery
while He’s at work
refusing to see HIS Doctor
The Hawk Deck NOON
The Grey-robed Figure
spirited out of bed at 11:00
takes Her Tea out to The Deck
assesses Her Timing
of This Morning’s Flirtation
with Depression
marked by Her Son’s Imminent Departure
for which She is cancelling
The Last Supper
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:40pm
I hear The Waves
My Backdrop to The Peepers
with My Husband’s Warm Hand
across My Left Arm
I am in My Cradle
My Bassinet
I will lie here
until
I die
The Hawk 4:50pm
I sing My Heart out
for every sailor Who comes along
for My Son Who’s later than expected
driving from Montreal
with an Australian
ready to take in Nova Scotia
–
I stumble over being A Mother
to My 25 year-old Son
skipping stones as if He were 9
& I forgot to buy more beer
in case He & His Buddy come back
before the obligatory good-bye
The Hawk Dining Room 12:50pm
He’s out there write now
pecking around the stone wall
dividing our property from the neighbours’
He’s a Northern Flicker
with a brilliant red crest
on the back of His Head
black bib under His Chin
(if birds have chins)
tabby striping on His Back
& buff with black spots underneath
He’s been here since I first spotted Him
at the other stone wall along the drive
— He seems to find stuff
among the rocks
with His Long Beak — He’s a Woodpecker
Colaptes Auratus
Oh, He just pooped!
Note: He’s a She – minus a back “moustache”
Joanna Gilman Hyde 