a dragon’s invitation to come out to play, plus there’s a prayer for Friday (any day)
Behind Me through the Window on a Rainy Day
I hear hissing
Outside
Tires on the wet street
No
A dragon
Skulking
Hunting
Hissing
Come out
Tiny humans
To play
I have some games
For you
Come up on my back
Between my wings
I’ll give you rides
Come out
I need breakfast
I mean
I need companionship
For play
You haven’t seen or heard
Such as me
Have you
Come closer
Then
Leave your chores
We’ll have fun
I know I will
And so should you
With me
Long and tall
And armored all
In green
Wouldn’t you like to touch
Come closer
Then
Come closer
Don’t mind the claws
Or teeth
Though you should
Look
Into my eyes
We’ll fly
And then return
No more than an hour
You trust the word
Of dragons
Don’t you
Then come out
Hey, There
(we say hey in Kentucky)
Hi
God
To be familiar
With the
Lord and majesty
Of all
But
Anyway
It’s Friday
How are you
I mean today
Is Friday
I think you know
My name
And I am wondering
(to pray)
If I could have
A dull and normal
Life
Just now
And for a while
For I could fill it on my own
With toys
Ideas
And things
And let the noise outside
Be mine
When I got out
To play
Or simply for a stretch
Because I really am
Working inside
This all takes hours
To do
And I could use the normal world
Suburban world
Dull world
To be itself for a while
So I could work
Create
In fact
To fill in all the spaces
That the boring leaves between
All normal acts
And spaces
And what about the wars
So far away
And outbreaks of disease
Where care is
Thin
And even water
Is a treasure
That is brokered
By the already wealthy
Or left ignored
Running thin
And questionable
In its own
Chemistry
While the war
I’m lucky
Must be somewhere else
I have not been shot
Though there have been
Carwrecks
To which the yelling world
Says
So what
Here
There is the wounding
And the dying
And the destruction
Of whole towns
That might as well
Slide into
The maw of hell
Where
They shall be living
Upon the surface
Of a desolate
A pitted
Earth
And there are other things
Such as
Nature going mad
And I’ve missed most of that
As well
Though in ‘96
There was that snowstorm
Closed the roads
For days
But I was inside
Where there was power
Food
Enough space to work
Even if the resting
Went uneasily
Until resumption of
An open world
For me
And mine
So I am lucky
How things miss me
How I was born
Into a quiet state
And have
Stayed that way
Through my life
Lucky
For the scars I have
From heart attacks
And other scares
All right
The trauma
Even the PTSD
Diagnosed
But still
My neighborhood
Is not entrenched
Except
For politics
While explosion are a
Matter of the traffic light
Outside
And the floods have not moved
Through
Except for hate of difference
Suspicion
Of our neighbors
That in this era
We do not reach out
So much
To know
And you live differently
And I hope well
And better
And could the world be better
If war and nature
Could be easy
Nonexistent
Even
Except for strategies
In rhetoric
Winning our arguments
Alone
C L Couch
Photo by Laith Abushaar on Unsplash
Leave a comment