early to bed
so it’s another gray day
leaves bouncing
lightly
against the house and in a move
I don’t understand
there
has been some turning
one brilliant
tree I passed
just
the other day
I guess
maybe there’s a thirst
maybe a wish for a literal kind
of
cold comfort
maybe the green’s already tired
early August
in the north of east
and
yet it all seems out of time
though it isn’t
my time
to call at all
leaf-peeping
which sounds like a misdemeanor
might
come early to Pennsylvania
too
soon leaf’s-blood
come
sidling if not pouring out
with
a bright and subtle wish to notice
that the changes in our
climate
make
a difference
could be an occasion
of an invitation
only
with the big changes coming
closer to
when they should
a slight
note also to notice that it’s warmer
then
is should be
enhanced
by us
and what shall change
we drop the temperature
we burn finally
like
wildfires
or it’s an interpretation of
worldwide
a
nuclear winter
ongoing sounds pretty good for
ordinary against an
ending
c l couch
photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
seasoning scene-setting dark gray passed over by the wind that pushes through some texture in the sky the merest hint of blue between uncertain banks of white before the short day leans a near western horizon closer until the solstice fires might invoke or simply ask for change c l couch photo by Vadim Sadovski on Unsplash
southern exposure
now it’s Tuesday
out back
the red looks brown
near-
winter brown
already
though the red out front
more fiery
by sunlight pouring through
the backs and
fronts of leaves
so
maybe it’s a matter
only of shadows
only
of daytime hours
and if the light could shine out back
there would
be fire art
out there
as well
c l couch
photo by Klim Musalimov on Unsplash
so much depending
red outside
at last
plus nearer the back window
late fall
but fall
scratching
speaking to the season
as
colors from cold
should
and if
there’s no relation
then
it’s all anticipation
falling
as it were
into each one’s magic
c l couch
photo by Natalia Fogarty on Unsplash
full of grace
Tuesday’s child
what
kind of grace
I wonder
doctrinal or
looks or
manners as in good at dinner
or knows the steps
for
a party
maybe it’s the kind of luck
that person shall
have
the good kind if not
grand
as things fall together
for school
or work
or family
by belief the certainty of heaven
after
such an afterlife secured for
in feeling by the clear and
dovetailed angel
management
of
life
full of woe
(a Wednesday poem)
finally
some color outside both windows
nothing brilliant but
tingeworthy
and shall there be honest fall
or shall this aspect of climate change
cause too many to fall brown and
withered
from too-soon dessicated
branches the season
unseasonal
went
too hot too long
for riotous autumnal virtue
c l couch
photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash
Ramallah Contemporary Dance Festival 2018
four more-or-less October poems (three poems narrative while one verse plaintive)
who takes the autumn time
fall
and I’m not ready
too cold too
fast
so
where were the colors
coming over weeks
as hot moved to cool
then to cold only at night
for
a while
yet
look at me
hear me
complaining
while
it was in the eighties well into
October with random
reason
or Earth turning
for all the heat returning
but frankly
the trees look like veterans
of the wasted early
season
green leaves with withered edges
an attempt at red now brown
meaning
late fall by climate change
and should we peak in wizened fall
from trees worn out by
normal waiting
for
the riotous return
and
it isn’t look
of course
alone
but touch the cooler wind
to smell the gradual passing
to
think on the mortality
but now breaking cycles
of the planetary model rest
to sleep under
into blade risings
with
spring
then who took the time of fall
MidAtlantic
everywhere and that would mean
south
what should be the verdant
growing time
ambassadorial
the orange cat
who
came to say hello then
walk right
in
to look for corners good for
rubbing faces
with new levels
chair
and stool
and bed
on which to leap
as if after
to plant a catly explorer’s
flag
to chirp and then
to cry a
little
signaling the visit done
and for us to go upstairs
to find
the unlocked door through
which
this pumpkin neighbor
had escaped and has come down
to call
a sibling face behind the door
of timider variety
now
waiting for the rascal-story
men’s Bible study
thought
I’d give a try
there were three plus
the proviso that
where
two or more are gathered
one
man I knew
the other not so much
but
we went on together through
the video
and readings
with
discussions on the way
and then
requests for prayer
and I asked for
my niece
and abashedly then
for
myself
and
by the way
we had gelato at the start
while
I heard tales of Italy
from two so much more traveled
than myself
so
I could learn
because they’re nothing like
well
like being there
to insurance companies
thanks
to your insurance
I’m suffering
treatments have been identified
by experts
you won’t let me have
the help
I know I’m just one person
whose numbers move through your
machine
so easy to ignore
while you gear your promotions
through yourselves
over my health
but
goodness
I wish I could feel better
from the summer’s infections
it being fall
now
and
you know
I could feel improved
but
you won’t let me
c l couch
photo by Mauro Lima on Unsplash
Sweet Sorrow
The leaves are golden
As if
Mindful of Lórien
Red
Green
Prevailing
Or
Still prevailing
Too
The season’s name
Not having
Claimed
Them
Yet
Though some
No doubt
Have
Fallen
The golden is not gold
Though
Precious
For Celeborn
If not
For Gollum
Who
Treasured a thing
That happened
To be
Made of gold
For its
Devotion
This gold outside shall fall
Naming
The season
Even as the leaves in storied Lórien
Did fall
And so
Nostalgic
Melancholic
Glory
In the mind
For leaves from
Fictive trees
And
The leaves
Eye-to-eye like
Like
Closeness of
Pages
I suppose
Though
On the other side of actual
And slow glass
C L Couch
Photo by Doriana Popa on Unsplash
“Slow Glass” is a short story by Bob Shaw.
Lórien (Lothlórien and other names) is the Golden Wood of Galádriel and Celeborn in The Lord of the Rings by Tolkien. (The name Celeborn with pronounced with the c like the c in “clock” or “cook”, hmm, or Couch.)
“Nostalgia” means “sweet pain,” as I was told by poet Julia Kasdorf, some years ago.
Candled also Candied Hallowe’en
Not a gore-fest
Please
Which means that
Franchised
Fields of blood won’t be
For
Me
A busy
Corn-maze would be
Pleasant
If the allergies
Go
All right
And there’s my heart
That has handled
Much
Though now is broken
Medically
Still can appreciate
Orange and black
Purple
Highlights
Civil costumes
Not civil servants
So much as
Witches white
With
Courtesy
Casper ghosts
And such
And of course
Sugar
For diabetes
Notwithstanding
But let’s have some chocolate
Please
Some chocolate
If I can do
(w for m)
Samhain at all
In appreciation of tradition
Tilting with the axis
Respectfully
If
Quixotically at the
Time
Of year
Then maybe those
Better-knit
Or not
With whom I may celebrate
Or who
May celebrate with me
Going
If vicariously for
The chocolate
C L Couch
Photo by Heather Green on Unsplash
Monoprint Texture
an abstract pumpkin patch? (not really)
have an orange happy
what do I know
of cooking for the season
cumin this
or turmeric
that
I like the smell of cinnamon
and clove
well enough
really
I’m in it for
the pumpkin shapes on windows
and some of the
really-not-so eldritch lights
at night
and then
in a month or so
the tricks and
treats
and really
at a certain age
or maybe anytime
doesn’t excessive chocolate
comprise both
parts of
that costumed greeting
though we
can say
it’s only one time of year
except for Christmas
(even
secularly)
and all the other times
the justifications
so maybe stick
with pumpkin images
in windows
and the eerie lights at night
and
moderate the rest
and yet
have a pleasing
a cool
if possible
(in the night
running for treats
mind you
safely)
happy regarding
and regardless
Hallowe’en
c l couch
get chocolate, it’s a treat; eat too much chocolate, it’s a trick
don’t feed chocolate to your dogs
photo by Mitchell Bowser on Unsplash
clcouch123 
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