Jazz Tribute
Water
Spoken oddly in some places
I prefer my
Waters
Muddy
Not to drink
But to drink in
C L Couch
http://www.vivascene.com/wp-content/uploads/
Banshee
She calls death one at a time
And only she can do this
How many of her kind
Might number all the realms
She does not know
She cannot
The grammar is of one, no
More
No more can exist at a
Time
There is no plural here, for only she
Can split the night
A responsibility of one, and then
Not even that
She folds into time until
Her nature is invoked again
To rend the cloth
To terrify even the somber parts
Of night
Dawn becomes mortality
All this is hers
C L Couch
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(Pixabay)
Riddle
(starts 1 February)
Brigid lit a candle near
A dark place in winter, where
The groundhog, drawn by
Light, emerged
Saw a black companion and
Never felt lonely again
In the south, she does this for the
Pagans
And in keystone Pennsylvania
There are black hats borne
On white men
Saint Philip likes the
Older men
Wishes for more color
Signs of spring we know
So by the end of second night
We have all the hints
And spring arrives no doubt
Without our help
And all the shaping of folklore
For the
Right time
Theirs and ours
Is near
C L Couch
fasterone.com
Swimming
My father used to swim the sound
I don’t know what that means, the sound
Since if ever I had seen it
I was two
But he swam it, and I guess
That was a distance
Puget Sound
He was the only engineer not to work
At Boeing
He chose the aluminum company instead
That sent him to Pittsburgh finally
Where the children finished growing up
That was fine
I like Pittsburgh
Anyway, to Puget Sound
And boats and ships and sails and I’m
Sure great engines
A life outside
I’ve had some of that, though
I did not wear an open shirt and a
Fedora on my head (yes, like Indiana Jones), stood
By the campfire, near which
Strings of fish were bound to sticks
And lines
Close by all the gear and even some guns
For pheasants and frankly
For rattlesnakes
These are the photographs and
The stories
How was he formed
And what did he leave?
And why do I have Northwest
Roots I do not know
At two, I picked blueberries for my
Grandmother
A memory I fight for
To conjure
To keep
C L Couch
Dialogue
Atlantis at night must be beautiful:
Lights once-Greek quietly
Illuminate the shores and other surfaces
And textures
Gold outside, silver-lit within;
We make it up, naturally,
Because we need to
Because
We want to wake up tomorrow on
An unknown shore that has
The best of what we are.
C L Couch
Whistling
Today we need to save the world
Because we don’t know how
We sit in the dark, a fine day for crucifixion
We betray all elements
In chosen ignorance of how to fix things
Not to those who know better
Who have the technicalities
Each of us in normalcy must choose
To save the world
Our own heroes in a comic book
And like those stories,
Our local universe is at stake
C L Couch
My Own Sabbath
I want to capture something
Something of this padded moment
Sunlight is muffled, outside movements, too
Warm coffee in the cup, mottled by cream
I am tired, not having slept, yet have
Numbered hours without expectation
Except of myself
My own sabbath day
Tomorrow is the Lord’s
Don’t worry, I’m aware of presence
C L Couch
Dawn on a Winter Morning
(Christopher David Hill)
A US Marshal died
Serving a warrant to a woman
And a man there started
Shooting
He is dead, too
More in number wounded
The marshal
I don’t know him
But he was on the law’s side, and
Yes
That makes a difference
He was on the law’s side
That always makes a difference
I’m sorry he’s gone,
Sorrier, frankly, than for the one who
Shot first
Sorry if that makes me a frozen
Heart
If I were at the shooter’s funeral, I might grieve
But for now
I’m with the marshal
Anyone with him
Related, co-working,
Or close
In other ways
The mayor, the governor
Make statements
Good
Other politicians
And might we all stop for a while
To let the weight of this
Drag on us for a while
C L Couch
http://www.wgal.com/article/police-on-scene-of-shooting-incident-in-harrisburg-thursday/15383945
Dream a Little Dream
Our DACA children
Not their fault
They are busy being children
That is their job
It’s our fault
It’s the fault of Congress
The fault of ICE for
Their current directive
It’s the fault of parents, even though
They are being parents, doing
What parents do
Bear children
And rear them
Why can’t the children stay
And what must split the family
Small, complete citizens have
Entitlement
The same as you or I
Immigrants all
Except for maybe woolly mammoths
What is there
To catch someone at—parents
For having children
Here
Was that a stratagem, maybe
For some
Is that enough for cynicism
A rationale for trading
On children
They are the future, yes
More importantly, they are the
Present
They are today
And we are judged
Judging them
Dreamers allow children America
C L Couch
http://www.bread.org/blog/prayer-dreamers
God of all,
We struggle to welcome those we don’t know to join our communities.
Please guide our actions so we may be a reflection of your love.
We struggle to find common ground with those who are from different places and have different customs.
Please guide our words so we speak with charity and hospitality.
We struggle to remember our own times of transition and uncertainty.
Please send your Holy Spirit to challenge our assumptions.
May we continue to seek new ways to find you in our lives.
May we Share the Journey with one another, every day. We ask all this in your holy name, through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
clcouch123 
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