(x = space)
x
x
Prevarication
x
How do I write about my brother
Again
And be ready one more time?
The doctor gave him time
Then that was it,
The doctor said
. . .
x
C L Couch
x
x
x
(x = space)
x
x
Mortal Timing
x
It’s cool today
Thank goodness
I am thankful
I guess I can’t haiku this
No artful three-line
Praise
Or only observation
Out of nature
Yet nature should be thanked
We are lucky in this hemisphere
Just now
North enough
And south enough
(ecumenically)
Praise fall’s invocation
Of bright colors
Praise the God
Who shows us grace
With autumn
x
Someday
The seasons mesh
Their virtues celebrating
All together
How trees will bear fall colors
While serving new life below
As spring
And summer
Under winter’s cover
We don’t know
(maybe there will be quarters of
seasons’ perfection)
But it is heaven
And new Earth
And these miracles will work
Like clear gold
In the streets of
New Jerusalem
x
C L Couch
x
x
The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.
Revelation 21:21
x
Photo by Steven Cordes on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Awful Day
x
A strategic
Maybe a cosmic
Joke
For terrorists to play
On us,
Choosing the day that means
Emergency
x
This year
The President is at the Pentagon
The Vice President is in New York
x
I was teaching then
And only understood in parts
I heard a part
And drove to work
Entered the classroom
The TV was on
x
Then the sorting-out began
With news,
With
People we knew who might have been there
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Julien Maculan on Unsplash
Downtown Manhattan view from Brooklyn on September 11, 2001
x
(x = space)
x
x
Time and Again
(for J. R. R. T. in the birthday month)
x
Sometimes
We know it’s happening
Far away
By powerful people
National leaders
Soldiers with weapons firing
Or
A catastrophe
That has not befallen us
Specifically
And like parades
We know they and these are passing by
x
Sometimes it’s here
Still not for us
Our role might be
To observe
Or like the chorus
Comment on events
But this is not our stage
We are not the players
Not the principles,
At least
When there is news
We will know more
x
Sometimes it is our time
The light might be on us
Maybe not
But it is our time
The actions
And the consequences
Our place in the world
To secure
x
Perhaps I mean
The deaths of kings
(inclusive)
Then a fire in another part
Of town
Then maybe no more than
A birthday celebration
To have with grace
And thanks
x
Or maybe our time
Is more important
However to us
It seems
To the people
To the planet
To the cosmos
Believe me or not,
It could happen
x
It happened to the hobbit
Most of us are hobbits
Even without the provenance
Or wealth
(before the treasure is acquired)
Of Bagginses
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Look Up Look Down Photography on Unsplash
Hobbiton, Mata Mata, New Zealand
x
(x = space)
x
x
From the Margin to the Center
(Charles III)
x
He said it in his speech
Bring the marginal
To the center
They might need rides
And smart, official people left behind
To assess the situation
x
They need to come
Angry, surly
Cynical and hopeful
Their pain needs to be understood
Not so much talked about
x
They’ll need a promise
Not assurances
The weight of a contract
And a moral contract
As if made with the ground
The promisers are standing on
x
God help the British king
To bring back
The table round
And a belief of might for right
As classically expressed
Though contemporary lived
Policy
And money
Where they matter
x
England is still post-war
And inside war
And must be ready still for another
But all the lonely people
Isolated like the wanderer
In an ice age that was once the north
Of need,
The people need companionship
And energy
Ways to live feasibly
As an island nation
As the English,
Each one
And together
x
Don’t talk
(anyone)
So much next time
As act
God save the king
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Anna Dziubinska on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Welcome Home, Elizabeth
x
You are the queen I’ve known
Since the beginning
As far as queens are needed
You were a good one,
I suppose
The diatribes against the royals
The subject of satires
The troubles throughout empire
And empire itself
x
You weathered like your namesakes
And your name become namesake
And were a person, too
The richest one
And with responsibilities
Some were known
In florid style
Cavalry and plumes
Other deeds and institutions,
Even
Remain unknown to most of us
Except the benefacting
And the benefacted
x
I’m sorry that you’re gone
I suppose there’s time
For the son
And then more sons
And when shall be a queen again?
And will she be Elizabeth
For all the virtues and the flaws
Of first and second?
The queen is dead;
Long live the subjunctive queen
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Jack Lucas Smith on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Hear the Sky
x
Today the sky is talking through
The rain,
Discussing how to wash the
Earth
Tonight the sky
Might be humming a humid tune
About solace, anyway, and rest
x
The sky can sing
Through brightened colors
The rainbow, yes,
But don’t forget the message
In the blue,
Beauty that is not owned
By anyone
That doesn’t care for borders
But flies over them
Unchallenged
x
The sky is its own master
We can hear that anytime
It will speak its blessings
Or admonishments
Maybe we should listen
And respect
And offer messages of harmony
Ourselves
x
Does the sky hear us?
It may have heard
It might hear again
x
C L Couch
x
x
Sunset in Vancouver
Photo by Ferdinand Stöhr on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Two-Day Turn
x
Today is the day
After Labor Day
And the start of school
As God intended
The god of summer
And the god of learning
Negotiate
And merge
And tilt the seasons
So that the picnic on the holiday
Is sweet and sweeter
With only a bit
Like a zest in soup or cake
Of disappointment
x
And with the bittersweet
We sleep inside the hours
Of the change
Waking up to fall term
With excitement
Now with the zest
Of jitters
x
So the seasons’ wizened-wise divinities allow
So I think
They prefer
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Joshua J. Cotten on Unsplash x
(x = space)
x
x
Then Shall You Take Me to the Fair
x
What shall we say
It’s Friday
Have a good weekend
Remember the virtues in today
We know the now we have
Is what we have
Though it’s not amiss
It’s human
We are made for this
To anticipate
To plan
And if we must
Succumbing to our impulse for impatience
Count the hours
Anticipating freedom
According to allowances
Sometime Friday afternoon
School’s out
The bell
The whistle
Everyone released
Who can be released
Enjoy Araby
If bittersweet
Enjoy the festival
The fair
Enjoy the hours
Whatever you shall have
In the days
x
C L Couch
X
X
Photo by heni noviyanti on Unsplash
x
clcouch123 
Recent Comments