The Hawk Kitchen 7:13pm
There’s something so satisfying
about letting A Fly out
a sliding glass door —
It’s as if all Your Problems
go along with It
& You can stand back
& look at The Sky
in Its sunset-hued pink
& think There Is No Better
Way
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 West Desk Window 2:45pm
I used to go to churches
and found them hollow places
Who there would hear of My Unstoppable
Shower Of Lights?
Who there could understand The Depths
of My Enclosed Depression?
–
I used to go to churches
looking for companionship
in the rawness of being broken open
like the delicate egg
I was trying to carry
–
I used to go to churches
when I wanted to die instead —
where no Minister could make Me
whole
and no friend could balance Me
–
I used to go to churches
and now I am Home
years beyond the fragility
in the compatibility
of My Marriage
where My House is
My Church
The Hawk Basement 11:25am
My Eyes for Our Visions
My Nose for Our Memories
My Mouth for Our Delight
My Brains for Our Dreaming
My Breasts for Our Sustenance
My Genitals for Our Desire
My Arms for Our Embracing
My Hands for Our Work
My Feet for Our Mobility
–
My Innards for Our Digestion
of Me
My Heart for Our Love
The Hawk Portico 5:50pm
I have fallen in love
with the spirit of the sea
encroaching as it does
upon the scrub spruce out front
and behind —
I’ll take them any day —
they house the birds
I thrive upon
they become enmeshed
in the early morning sun
and mist — outlining each branch
as if it were a star
how I love the wild here
the unleashed surf
and even, yes even
the occasional car
or truck
traversing the pavement
of My Southern Boundary
to The Atlantic
The West Desk Window 10:30pm
What is being heard
in the primordial surf
swooshing its way through
My Bedroom Window —
is it the surge I heard when My Father’s Sperm
rushed to make Me
when My Mother’s Egg
swelled and grew
to the whoosh of Her Womb
Hers and Mine?
The Hawk Corner Room 7:55pm
Are We the only planet
aligned between a sun
and a moon
in perfect symmetry
to house
Our Selves?
The Hawk Deck 11:15am
The Birds of My Childhood —
I have Them All Here:
The Back Woods Jay Squawk
of Valley Cottage
The Low Brush Cheep
of The Chick-a-dee-dee-dee
The Harsh Cawing of The Morning Crow
on McNutt’s Island
The Hearkening Bleat
of The Summer Willet
from My Old Jordan Bay
–
These places I will never see again
but They Call to Me Still
The Hawk Portico 9:22am
I am The Director Of My Universe
Oh, I am influenced
by outside factors
but deep inside Me
ultimately
I am My Own Guide
Joanna Gilman Hyde 