The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:30pm
I once looked in a mirror
in My Private Bath
behind My Room
at The Yarmouth Regional Psych Unit
to see a face
I did not recognize:
slouched, forlorn, perplexed
The Face I See Now
in the multiple mirrors
of Our Hawk House
is MY FACE
The Hawk Deck 4:43pm
I Have A Stigmata
applied twice daily
with a Q -Tip
to My Right Cheek
(facial, that is)
I’m killing a part of Me —
a part of unfavourable growth —
I march around proudly
with the evidence of Sun
The Hawk En Suite Bath 1:32pm
I sit in a swath of Sun
where once I sat
in a Moon Beam
& got up to write
It out
I have come
full circle
where Night is now
Day
& I am Seeing
The Breadth Of Light
*Jesus Jones 1991
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:14am
The Cape has turned moss green
overnight
I gaze out across
Its growth of dunes
serene against the overcast sky
inlet tide — the rich grey
of My Husband’s Hair
while He’s in The Tub
Barrington, NS 4:30pm
I Am That Child
climbing into Her Father’s Shopping Cart
talking in complete sentences
about The Monkeys at The Zoo
and The Snake in
The Snake House
–
I Am That Child
with blond hair pulled back
into a pony tail
asking Her Mother, repeatedly
“Who You wavin’ at, Mom?”
–
I Am That Dark Haired Child
alone beside a rock
with two sticks
as drum sticks
turning away from Old Men
to examine
Her Own Play
The Hawk Outpost 11:15am
The Hawk Outpost
offers a thin blue sky
to The North East
the promise of sun
while a solitary Grackle
pecks at the lawn
with His Brilliant Teal Head
— Oh — There’s Another One!
The Hawk Kitchen 5:15pm
I’ve set My Deluxe Spaghetti
with hamburger AND sausage
housed in crockery from My First Marriage
into My Gleaming Oven —
I spent two days cleaning off
baked-on two-year-old grease
including showering with the racks this morning —
now My Like-new Oven will provide a fortifying meal
to serve dinner guests
any day this week
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22pm
We will travel to distant stars
to walk upon lands of other planets
We will taste food yet un-savoured
& dress in garb yet only dreamed of
We will swim in salted coves
salted by the sweat of billions
We will fly our mini star-packs
through the sea-clouds of air yet formed
We will dance along valleys
& surge forward into night
We will set Our Selves loose
to gallivant with Our New Found Friends
Our New Society Of People
like Us
with Whom We will play
with magical swords
forged from metals more precious
than gold
& with Whom We will die
momentarily
at The Hands
of Lovers Divine
The Hawk Outpost 8:15pm
I looked from The Sky’s wispy clouds
threading overhead
to last year’s bamboo crop
the colour of This Year’s Fawn
Who emerged from new shoots
like magic
to test The Neighbour’s Offering
of a scoop of grain
Joanna Gilman Hyde 