The Hawk West Desk Window 3:13pm
Today I saw A Silver Gull
bending & arcing
before the glancing clouds
outside My Kitchen Window
To It I attached no significance
other than It was A Thing
Of Beauty
The Hawk Corner Room 3:30pm
I wear An Open Heart Watch
on My Right Arm
A Silver Band on My Left
My Question Mark Ring
I deliberately flashed
when I last saw Him
nodding
over The Bed of My X
Father-in-law
3:50pm
I plunge into My Day Dream
snug in Eliza’s Corner Room
with a cup of Earl Grey
in front of The Picture Window
framing The Reason
I am Here
The Hawk Living Room 2:28pm
I never felt the loss of My Mother
says My 2nd Husband —
He’s a Doctor — He should know —
and Yes, I admit it —
I told My Self when She was diagnosed
with Her Killer Brain Tumour —
I declared to My Self
“I will never feel The Pain –”
I swore it
and had only one session of tears
two months before She died
That was It — unless You want to count
The Shower Of Silver Lights
which cracked over Me
four days after My Mother died
leaving Me in a departed way
The Hawk Hallway 8:18am
I catch The Silver Sheen
upon the water
& wonder what the day
will bring
I prepare My List
for Home-coming Daughter
& wonder not that My Heart
still sings
The Hawk Living Room 9:05am
The Sun is white hot
this morning
with Its Silver Blazing
over the water
The Crows are in an uproar
waves of Starlings are matting Our Lawn
The Hawk Kitchen 4:47pm
The Sky around here
is so dramatic:
The Heavy Greys
of low-lying Clouds
move across The View
out My Sliding Glass Doors
with The Sun hitting Their Layers
— The Clouds, not The Doors —
while I sit on A Cat’s Ottoman
in My Pretty But Humble
Kitchen
watching
A Gull pass over
illuminated in Silver
The Hawk Portico 2:22pm
–
The waves speak to Me
not as a neighbour would
but as a mother might:
“Shhh, Joge, Shhh
Everything Will Be Al-right “
–
The birds speak to Me
of the waves beyond
as if the chirps & calls
& singular silver notes
are accent marks
to the surging shoreline
–
The fog speaks to Me
through the echo of its horn
semi-distant
complimenting
the readied speech
of melodic birds
& the steady rush
of tide
–
The insects speak to Me
landing on My Pages
as if in observation
of My finalizing penmanship
telling Me to go ahead
“Soak it all in and
let it all out”
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:42
The Moon lived with Me
for a short while
from The Time Of My Conception
to The Time Of My Death
It stood behind Me
as A Halo Of Silver
and I lived with My Shadow
where ever I went
Joanna Gilman Hyde 