Haiku For The Afternoon
The Hawk Portico 3:38pm
Atop The High Wire
He Preened, My Dearest Blue Jay
Turning Up His Cap
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The Hawk Deck 11:11am
Oh Little Bird What
Is That Song You Sing —
Are You The Voice
Of Liquid Silver
Out Beyond The Scrub Spruce
Out To The Slow Breakers
Catching The Light
Of White Sun?
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:43pm
I lament the drawing
of the shade
upon The End Of Our Day
heralded by The Crescent Moon
and adjacent planet
accenting the twilight
of Sunset
seeping into the darkening
ridges of islands
and outer water ways
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:38pm
The Sun-slash across
My Couch is calling Me
to sit in Its Tomato-coloured Shaft
to contemplate My Premises
— My Place In This House —
as The Slant moves along
below a sky light
in the cathedral ceiling
momentarily illuminating My Book
infusing The Book Mark Sash
with a glitter of brighter crimson:
I Am Internal To This Domain
The Hawk Portico 6:22pm
Today I Saw A Super Bug
Shaped Like A Mosquito
Only Several Times Bigger
— He Landed On Our Car Wind-shield
While My Husband
Attended To A Patient —
Transparent Wings Clapped Together
& Sparkled
As I Looked Up At Him Through The Glass
He Told Me
“I Am Alive
To Help
Humanity”
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:35pm
I live in a fortress
of sanctity
where My Every Word
is a sacred step
to where I already am
locked-in by a sky
of charcoal clouds
wafting over Our Crescent
Moon
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:24pm
I Grace Time
with a glance at My Watch
Cell Phone
Computer
Dashboard (Car)
Microwave
Slow Cooker
and if I see
10:22
2:22
9:11
I Am Graced
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:38pm
If I Could Paint A Sky
With Words —
Can I Reach The Ear
With Sounds —
Sounds Of Such Value To Me
I Want To Encapsulate
Them —
The Story Of Our Ocean
With No Beginning
And No End —
The Sweetness Of My Peepers
So Brief?
Barrington Passage, NS 7:45pm
What Rings True Above
The Din Of Busy Traffic?
Truth Behind Bird Song
Joanna Gilman Hyde 