The Hawk Kitchen 5:57pm
I am in self-imposed Lock-down
in My Own Kitchen
listening to peepers
to The West
and The Ocean —
can I go outside
to hear It?
I hear only those tiny frogs
which provide Me
with such joy
The Hawk Kitchen 7:34am
When I Drink My Water
I Am Drinking The Sky
When I Eat My Fruit
I Am Eating Primordial Earth
When I Smell My Coffee
I Am At Home
When I Am Awake
So Too Is The World
Yarmouth, Nova Scotia
exiting the hospital
after visiting an old friend
Eye saw the emptied harbour view
for the first time
since Eye had been a patient
walled in by brick & glass
years & years ago —
The View, lit clear
spread Itself out to Me
w/ tidal banks exposing
the water basin of rivulets
& hummocks of spruce & rock
along Its edges —
for the first time
Eye saw Its Majesty
in the evening light
Eye felt the corporeality
of M(eye) Cure
The Hawk Kitchen 2:45pm
My Morning Ritual is over
I’m not sorry — We’re trying to save the birds
in the backyard — a compost section
in a hedge may have been the culprit
— I would throw My Daily Banana Peel
there as I munched in contemplation
standing in My Bathrobe
or Pyjamas
until My Astute Daughter
pointed out that birds go after My Leavings
& Our More Limber Cat(s?) go after Them
COULD I PUT MY PEEL
IN THE NEW COMPOST BUCKET UNDER THE SINK
AND STILL TAKE MY BANANA OUTSIDE?
The Hawk West Desk Window 12:13pm
I saw An Angel Once
— while My Mother lay dying —
She Flew from Left to Right
amidst The Bows of A Lofty Pine
I told My Mother Where To Look
for Belly, Arms, Sleeves
She turned Her Head, My Mother did
so She Never Leaves
The Tomato-coloured Couch 7:17pm
I can write whatever I want
a privilege not held in all countries
there, where Women are struggling
while I sit in My Sea-side Outpost
wanting to give, will, Them The Power
I have
to fight the wars Their Men
have made
to fight the hunger of Their
babes
what can I do
but write
My Freedom
& hope It spreads?
Joanna Gilman Hyde 