Did God create The Dragonfly
to fly out of nymph-hood Today
of All Days?
Or has The Dragonfly created Itself
over eons
to emerge from arbitrary randomness?
–
I have been answered
by swarms of midges
screaming out to Me
for recognition
The Hawk West Desk Window 8:15am
Nobody knew how much
I longed for Those Pet Store Love Birds
except My Mother
as I begged Her to buy Them
for forty dollars in 1970
I had My Heart Set On Them:
all She said was
What If One of Them Dies?
–
8:35am
Two Years Ago We Awoke
to Our First Morning Here On The Hawk
It seems so long ago
I can’t remember:
was it The Still, Glittering Day
We are having Now
with Our First Cup of Coffee in Bed
& Our Second on The Deck?
Or was I frantically unpacking?
I can’t remember
The End of Summer
is crystallizing into
The Newness of Fall
–
Thunder is in The Forecast
& My Red Deck Chair
is already wet
this morning
–
The Second Pot of Coffee is on
& I feel The Beginning
of September
–
The Sky Scape reaches out
over The Horizon
purple & gold
however strong
The Hawk Deck 3:25
The Surf is rising —
I hear It beyond
the fog-wafted scrub spruce
to The North
–
It is calling Me:
The Waves surge through My Limbs
then subside
while I get My Breath
–
My Art is in My Pen
driven by My Surroundings:
today the breezy fog
accompanied by horns
low-pitched
meshes with a Chickadee’s chirp
as I relinquish all longing
& bask in My SELF
Joanna Gilman Hyde 