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air

Exhale

Exhale

 

Out goes the bad air

In goes the good

That was from a cartoon, I think

Someone pushing water out

And hoping oxygen got in

In an animated way

And in an animated way

 

That’s all I remember

Maybe a vague image in black and white

But everything was black and white

We didn’t have a color set

As for a time, no one did

In what was technology but

Shooting rockets into space

Removing oxygen in liquid style

One-way breathing

For a planet

 

Awaiting returns for investment

Time and space, material and energy

Before we got the set

And got Apollo

Earthy breath

That is imagination

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Bill Jelen on Unsplash

The June 29, 2018 launch of a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket from Cape Canaveral Air Force Station was scheduled for 5:42:42 AM in order to rendezvous with the International Space Station. Every rocket has a plume of exhaust, but only the rockets launching just before sunrise will show up like this one.

 

Air and Space Museum

Air and Space Museum

 

Light and space

It’s physics,

And it’s Arabic

It’s need

A vision helping me get by

In a crowded world

That doesn’t breathe enough

Plants to air

Us to carbon dioxide

Back to plants

It goes ‘round, and when

Done right, it’s good

 

I want to be at the Alhambra

Or the Alcázar

Without the Christian overparts

Not to abandon faith but

To find it in the beauty

Of healthy building

 

I don’t know how to reconcile

The tyranny that built it

 

Somehow-dimensions cast to God’s own

As if the architect had been

In Eden when

First designed

All was lush

With light and air

Imagine a veil

Blown under the arch

Of all creation, which was

The promise of

 

How close we might get

Toward living with life’s own

The movement

Without angels yet

To keep us out

 

All is green behind

After we rest, breathed upon by God

We get to go inside

 

C L Couch

 

 

File:Alcázar de Segovia-9.jpg – Wikimedia Commons

 

Travels

Travels

 

If I go anywhere

I will look down and say,

The raindrops puddle here

As well

 

I will breathe what I

Know to be the same

Air molecules from home

Earthy currents being

What they are

 

The same clarity exists

Even the smells,

And I will welcome expressions

That show the same face

I find in my

Immigrant land

 

Psalm 38, a morning song

Psalm 38

a morning song

 

A normal day, at last

Blue sky and green leaves

The air is cool

 

Ablutions and then coffee

I sit here

Bird-song is low

 

Maybe birds are taking

Time to let this day

Herald itself

 

I sit here

With a cool current on

My back and liquid warmth

 

Close by: you give me

This peace, dear Lord

And my heart

 

Only begins, with what

Capacity it has,

To thank you

Young Frankenstein

Young Frankenstein

 

This phrase came to mind

Out of the season’s time:

When the veil fails, speaking

Of Hallowe’en

 

This is what those of ancient

Lore believed—that gossamer-

Iron webs and steel-misty

 

Vapors held the other side

On a spellbound, ritualed

Line

 

Except for

 

This one time each year

 

I don’t know what this means;

The child in me didn’t

Care

 

I dressed colorfully, unusually

 

Looked through eyeholes

Of masks sweated ’round

The fabric on my face

 

I was young and relatively

Free

 

To run my neighborhood

 

Receiving chocolate reward

For feeling the thrill of cool

Air as more night rushed

Over my skin,

 

Through folds in costumes,

 

The faster that I moved

Mother and Father

Mother and Father

(on hearing five of the Solomons

have sunk due to rising sea water)

 

Once and once again

There was a child

The child is Earth

And we are her protectors

 

We are the parents

Of the Earth (earth and

Air and water)

 

For our children

Whom we leave

The planet of our future

Pre-Dawn

Pre-Dawn

 

Birds are noisy

Waking up the rest

Of the world

 

Mist along the

Edges of the yard

A damp feel

 

Light enough for

Artificial lamps

Turning useless

 

Now earth turns

Over a bit to be

Washed by the

 

Day’s new air

Bending without

Voice the arcs

 

Of branches

Enough for them

To moan a little

 

Wind cleans night

With round beads

Of dew water

 

Surprise and

Comfort in the

Dawning tasks

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