Apology for Valentine’s
I’m sorry
I didn’t mean to say it
As I did
I wanted to say something
So in nervousness I
Spoke too fast
And said too little
C L Couch
http://www.wisebread.com/12-smart-uses-for-safety-pins
What’s New
What’s news today
Is not the White House
Another administration might agree
It’s seventy-one
People who died when a plane in
Russia crashed
Adversaries, allies
Doesn’t matter
For all should be allied
In tragedy, in prayer
In all recoveries that must
Transpire
This trumps all
Care or not
Doesn’t matter to lives lost
But to help those who must live
Can’t restore the loss
Can promise a
Future
If we are there to say it
For some, that would be new to hear,
New to do
C L Couch
https://www.cnn.com/2018/02/11/europe/russia-plane-crash/index.html
dimanche
tomorrow,
lundi gras
because the season is
a day a piece
but excess sometimes lead to excess
in a binary way
so what if Sunday earns
in all quarterly respect
some quiet
inhalation
before the time
of beads
of jazz
of worldly processions
(you tell me)
exhales
c l couch
http://www.mardigras.com/news/2010/01/mardi_gras_bound_learn_about_b.html
Iran Hostages in 1980
(52, 444)
I remember the Iran hostages
Held there for so many days
I remember the rescue fail
Husks of aircraft on the desert floor
And I could only imagine
(And I did)
About the crews and soldiers that
Had been carried inside
It was the start of Nightline on ABC
Where we got reports
Each day (each night)
And always a figure graphically depicted that
To me
Looked like someone mummified in black and white
And the number grew each day
Without better resolution
I was reminded of
The Viet Cong kill count each night given
On the evening news
And wondering why
The GI count was always higher
C L Couch
http://jssyellowribbon.com/YellowTree/
The Enchanted Namesake
I read the story long ago
I wrote the author
He never wrote back
But then how many
Contacts were there like mine
To say the name
Was mine as well
Did he ever take it as an indictment
As if to say,
It’s not my fault
I had my troubles, too, with it
Please leave
Me alone
On the jacket was the mention of
A bookstore
Which sounds pretty good
To me
A good life for which
I’d wish him well,
Of course
Well, I thought the name was silly until
It wasn’t
And the English teacher
Liked in fact
Having a literary character
For a name
As well as
A real person
C(hristopher Robin) L Couch
Amazon.com355 × 499Search by image
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
Free for commercial use
No attribution required
(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
clcouch123 
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