The Hawk Outpost 9:41am
I am standing in The Light
of Our Decorated Star
squinting My Eyes
against Its Brightness
The Glass Door is open
not to let Me out
but to let The Song
of The Morning Birds
Culminate
The Hawk Dining Room NOON
The Liquid Silver Off The Breakers
Before They Break
Holds My Eye
In Mid-sentence
Holds My Heart
In Sublime Suspense
The Hawk Kitchen 8:53pm
Today I was instructed
to “Be The Artist You Want To Be”
— I AM —
I see pieces of The Universe
in sink pans
laden with the makings
of Fully Formed Galaxies
so much so that I
am One Of These
I am A Galaxy morphing
into The Rest Of The Universe
& I Love It
The Hawk Kitchen 7:12pm
I wonder if I’ll ever be
an old woman
with a kerchief over My Head
working in a garden
with rubber boots
and black soil
staining My Bony Hands
The Hawk Outpost 5:05pm
Cream-coloured Breakers
Hail Slate-blue Atlantic
Overseen By Sun
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22pm
Each Of Us
Is The End Product
Of An Individual Star
We, Each Of Us
Should Be Born To Thrive
Born To Live
Born To Shine Our Light
From Each Of Our Big
Or Little
Hearts
The Hawk Kitchen 6:08pm
There’s A Bay Window
At My Kitchen Door
Where I Can Stand Northward
To Be Surrounded
By Trees And Yard
And Sky, Clouds, Ocean To The East
To The West Our Muskrat Pond
And A New Testament
Baptist Church
On The Hill
The Hawk Queen Bed 9:36am
The Silver Streaks, magnificent
are encapsulated
within My Mind
& I know They’re out there
on the water
& in The Grey Clouds, lateral
edged in white
I know The Silver Scape
is there
because I see It
though It shifts
on the horizon
I hold It
fixed
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:22pm
I take My Medication
to keep My Power in check
otherwise I would not sleep
& I would be powering all over
the house
& out into the yard at night
& God knows where —
I would be unstoppable
& I would have to get apprehended
by The Mounties and/or ambulance attendants
to wind up in The Yarmouth Psychiatric Unit
where They would lock Me up
in the so-called “Therapeutic Quiet Room”
where I would pound & pound
& drum & drum on the steel door
until They came in & held Me
down
for an injection
against My Will —
It’s Black Power
of Which I Speak
Joanna Gilman Hyde 