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Month

December 2020

Impulses

(x = space)

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Impulses

x

Exhaling’s good

x

We feel as if we’re

Letting go,

Letting things out

We no longer

Need

x

Maybe small cells

Of disease

(don’t breathe those

at anyone),

Maybe

Small particles of

Memory we

Could do without

Because they act like

Sickness,

Like an infection

x

Maybe we’ll

Straighten up a little

As we inhale,

Let the shoulders

Do their part

x

Maybe we’ll inhale

Healthy remembrance,

As life allows

For these, the

Memories that heal

x

It’s a dicey game

That is no game

Breathing, hurting,

Healing,

Breathing some more

x

We learn from

this, from these

x

It’s why we

Went to school,

To learn how

To learn

To breathe

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Erik Dungan on Unsplash

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The Present Season

(x = space)

x

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The Present Season

x

It is Advent I know

x

Last year I wrote

A perambular devotional

x

It comes without

My help and does in

Fact mean coming

x

As it is a season

A loving kind

Of pre-Christmas warning

x

Well I hope it is

Such a good season for you

x

The kind of joy

That prophets might

Foretell but that

By planned devotion

Or surprise

We get

To live anyway

x

Let all of us

As if from Santa Claus

Delivered

To the city- and cave-dwellers

And those who live

Under palm trees

x

Or on high mountains

Inside windy forests

Or on moving sand

x

Have such a season and

At the season’s end

Such and more so

A merry day

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Sebastian Fröhlich on Unsplash

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A Letter Came from Ephesus

(x = space)

x

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A Letter Came from Ephesus

(1 Corinthians 1:3)

x

Grace

Hopes and maybe wishes

The visiting

And writing evangelist

x

We can ask

Any, all

And sometimes ask aright

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Mihai Moisa on Unsplash

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Cenobite

(x = space)

x

x

Cenobite

(last ice age or next one)

x

I need food

I need drink

That’s primal

x

Since the world has iced over,

I have nearly nothing now

She should have told the hermits

x

I haven’t seen siblings for days

x

We always pray

But without tools

And a bigger fire,

We shall dry like

Animal meat, which is

All we’ll leave behind

Surrounded by charcoaled pages

As a testament

x

What shall I leave as last words?

That it was too thick,

That I could not break through?

That the storm ruined my fire,

Even inside the cave?

x

That I still believe?

That my supplication

Is to receive my soul?

x

I do believe

Yet wish I had a follower,

Someone come from town

To bring me coals and kindling,

Water and a pike whose metal tip

Could break through ice

To running water far below

Though I haven’t heard it

Seems for an age

x

I might be addled

Or unfaithful,

But I could go for bread and

Cheese as well and wine,

Though I’ve tried to make the

Bitter ale I have last for a while

(nearly gone, now)

x

And candlelight

I miss candlelight

x

My head hurts,

My body weakens

I don’t know if I’ll die

In night or day

x

It’s hard to tell

Anymore

x

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Shannon McInnes on Unsplash

Northwest Territories, Canada

On an off chance we found ourselves needing to drive from Inuvik to Tuktoyuktuk, Northwest Territories, Canada, which was only accessible by ice road at the time. It took us about three hours driving on the ice to reach Tuktoyuktuk, which sits on the shore of the Arctic Ocean. This is what you see when you step out and look down. Taken during the last weeks of the ice road before it permanently closed. http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/north/arctic-highway-challenges-1.4398726

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There was an ice age in the Middle Ages.  The next one might be caused by global warming.

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