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A Count of Days

(x = space)

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A Count of Days

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The Sabbath comes

And in ten days

And counting more

Is Hanukkah

Lights and chocolate

Latkes and other gifts

Of earth

And from each other

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Blue and silver

Days and nights

The nights show off the lights

That show the miracle

When we got our temple

Back

To find it desecrated

And no fuel for lamps

We lighted them anyway

And they burned eight days

For us

And for our faith

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We’re not perfect

We need to keep commandments,

After all

That remind us

And our neighbors

And the world

But we own miracles as well

As the menorah

And the gifts

And the food

And the blue nights

Shall show us

As the first time

The grace and love

And strength of God

For us

In faith

And you

In yours

If we may say,

Welcome to our festival

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C L Couch

9th of Kislev (after sundown), 5783

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Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

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Everyday Protagonists

(x = space)

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Everyday Protagonists

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First day

Of the tenth month

To the Romans

A Thursday this time ‘round

Named for Thor

(all the time)

It is near noon

There are yellow sunbeams

On the floor

I am thankful

For the light

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I imagine it’s cold outside

It’s cold inside

I don’t use much heat

I ran out of cream

And the wrong thing was provided

Now I have it

For the coffee

That is cooling to the left of me

With toast in a bowl

Close by

While I try to write

Trying not to make it sound

Too diary

Or Prufrockian

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Spell-check likes Prufrockian

So there must be a following

Well and good

Like Babbitt

Or Rabbit

Please Don’t Eat the Daisies

Diary of a Mad Housewife

Or Mad Woman

Erma Bombeck

In the pit

Dave Barry

Any who might live in Winesburg, Ohio

Ingesting Dandelion Wine

From time to time

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Our heroes are

The normal people

Ordinary people

Look to the left and to the right

You most likely won’t see Wonder Woman

Or James Bond

Sometimes we needn’t look

Because the heroes must be ourselves

Called to action

Called to serve

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The firefighters

Front-line anyone

For whom there is no reward

When the cost is life

Or in an easier but a self-determined way

We could say inconvenience

A step out of life

That otherwise is quotidian

The same

To make the call

Offer the handkerchief to blood

Turn to

Large or small,

Help another

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Too obvious?

Maybe

Who are the heroes?

Mostly,

They are us

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C L Couch

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Photo by Andrea Sánchez on Unsplash

Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico

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The God of Sleep

(x = space)

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The God of Sleep

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Morpheus?

No, that’s for dreams

I’ll have to look it up

How about the Sandman

For the present?

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Sandwoman

Sandperson

Spell-check doesn’t like these

But whoever

Might come to call

For some obeisance

And a following

Whatever ritual

(save sacrifice of something

other than me)

To make

To have the next several hours

Gone

To Elysia

Or Parnassus

Where I could learn to draft

With poets

Or anywhere that keeps me quiet

Unaware

In the world

Of you and me

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C L Couch

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Hypnos—I looked it up—is the Greek god of sleep

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Photo by Brina Blum on Unsplash

Sleeping French Bulldog in the Sun

Weisenau, Mainz, Germany

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summation

(x = space)

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summation

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its been a day and i havent told you anything ive been in pain and there has been some amelioration through being still and water food when I was hungry

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ive been praying prayers as time rick goes by for welcome home to those whove died healing for those in hospital or in pain for reasons that take us other places or simply to the heart and mind and spirit of a promise

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now the day is over night has drawn nigh to paraphrase another older song more sleep for you less pain for you more health in the morning or reverse that if you work at night third shifting

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c l couch

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photo by gilberto parada on unsplash

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Frances Perry

(x = space)

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Frances Perry

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Today is my grandmother’s

Birthday

She made it to 92

Not bad in my family

She thought Excedrin for pain

And a banana once a day

Were good for long life,

Otherwise living each day

With whatever

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She had agendas—don’t

We all—but

She might have been

A simple person

Driven by impulse

That life in the Depression drove

Also by other, better life

Secured

After

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She was the one I knew

Her husband was a good man

Who died when I was

A teen

And everyone was gone by then

Now the parents’ generation, too,

For some time now

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My siblings

Have had to forge their anchors

And to cast them on their own

In hopeful waters

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I’d say they’ve done well,

While I record

Some things

About them all

About us all

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Remember to

Set down your stories,

Too

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C L Couch

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“Migrant family from Arkansas playing hill-billy songs. Farm Security Administration emergency migratory camp. Calipatria, California” 1939

By Dorothea Lange – This image is available from the United States Library of Congress, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4450129

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O Sweet, Majestic Lord

(x = space)

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O Sweet, Majestic Lord

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O to invoke you

Oh to complain

Or sigh as if

I could rest

Upon your feet

Or lay my head

On your knee

It’s not worship

I know

But it would be amazing

To rest on God

This way

And feel the cloth

And flesh and bone

Beneath

Because the one of you

Who has these

Could come to me

This way

And I could sigh into my sorrow

And hope to

Sanctify my dreams

While you might

Accept my tears

Not as libation

But as something honest

Offered

Of myself

For a change

And for a change

Reverse the pietà

I want to rest on Jesus

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C L Couch

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Photo by Boudewijn Huysmans on Unsplash

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Advent a Season

(x = space)

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Advent a Season

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It begins tomorrow

It’s coming

That’s what Advent means

Open the paper doors

Read the message

Take the chocolate,

Mentally take a

Count of twenty-four

In a corner of

The counting mind

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So much to do

We say

And, yes, we do

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Too much?

I don’t know

That is another calculation

Achievement, disappointment

Satisfaction

The remainder

In the quotient

Both the object and the function

Of investment

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And can there

Be joy?

Yes, there can be

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Mute the commercials

And the other things

There are moments

In the darkness

There’s pain

And also promise

The prophets

Of so many traditions

Say so

Generally

And now

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Find your way:

There should be stars

Conversing inside

Degrees of brightness

While clouds and moon

Have come to play

As well

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So listen well

And talk

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There’s mischief

And there’s pleasure

For days

We might live differently

Then keep that

For a season

And another,

If the difference is good

If it’s made of lights

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Like in the northern half

Of Earth

The towns and fields there,

Reflections off of snow that

Will be trodden

Blown or melted

But remembered

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There is a new living

In this count of days

Or lose count

There will be arrival,

Anyway

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jack Catalano on Unsplash

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Christmas Campaign

(x = space)

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Christmas Campaign

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Christmas

Is a month away

Precisely

In this year of 2022

Good timing for Black Friday

I don’t understand

They’re only things

And each other’s company

The presents

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Not to be maudlin

Or mawkish

Sometimes the truth

Must come with syrup

That makes it sweet,

At least

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I wouldn’t know

How to deal with

Great expectations

Of receiving things

Rather than

Only ourselves

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There could be meals

Recipes

Desserts

Special drinks

Coffee

We could defend each other

Don’t let people drive

Until they’re ready

Turning out spare rooms

(Spare Oom in Narnia

with a War Drobe)

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I don’t mean a campaign

And I do

Christmas is love

More than possession

Though there’s nothing wrong

In wanting things

And owning them

And if there are dangers,

I think

You know what they are

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A month from now

Merry Christmas

It doesn’t have to be sectarian, for

Maybe part

Of Christmas love

Is diversity

And the widest possible

Welcoming

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C L Couch

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Photo by Andrej Lišakov on Unsplash

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The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis, specifically The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

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two poems for Thanksgiving

(x = space)

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two poems for Thanksgiving

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The Godmother

(Sarah Josepha Buell Hale and Thanksgiving)

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In the USA

Other nations have

Their days

It was Hale

An editor

Who lobbied

Above Washington’s

Claim as a foundation

That

The nation needed

Officially

Thanksgiving

Hale wrote to Lincoln

Other Presidents

Before

That this day was

Needed for a nation

Even in the

Horrible paradox of war

To say thank you

To whomever we should

Be saying thank you

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Lincoln conceded

Gave a proclamation

That would not be set

For many years

Long after Hale’s

Life on Earth

Was done

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A first Republican

Then a long-serving Democrat

(who liked new deals)

Sealed the deal

And so we have it

Fourth Thursday

In the ninth Roman month,

November

To you and me

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The Day We Have

(on Thanksgiving)

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Football and turkey

Then more football

Stuffing and cranberries

Maybe ham

Or roast beef

Or sandwiches from

The many places

Selling sandwiches

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I suppose there will be

Beer and wine

(beer before wine is fine)

Water

Juice

Soft drinks

People ‘round the table

Between quarters

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If turkey,

Then turkey sandwiches

(little mayo,

cranberry sauce)

Before the day is done

With

More sustenance

Kept inside the box

For tomorrow

And tomorrow and tomorrow

Since there’s too much

Lucky us

Who have too much

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C L Couch

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Photo by Morvanic Lee on Unsplash

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Thank you!

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