(x = space)
x
x
sun ascending blue
(haiku)
x
sun ascending blue
into gray imagining
a turn in fortune
x
c l couch
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photo by jack levick on unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Blessings of Lights in Darkness
(appreciation of a Gentile toward the Jewish family)
x
Somewhere in Advent
Hanukkah begins
x
Sundown tomorrow,
I believe
x
Eight nights of blue
With silver lights
That dedicate
The temple
From our enemies
x
They’re gone:
We don’t have to think
About them
x
Now, there’s chocolate
And treats
In games
And gifts,
Small delights
And big ones for the heart
x
Anticipation
Practice
Family
x
My ignorance
Like ignorance
Has walls;
I’d rather be inside
The spirit of redemption
And occasion,
The community
x
The relief in having realized
Somber times
x
The pleasure now,
The fun
Of shalom
x
Eight days
Of miracle,
Of remembrance and the meaning that
Creation is in food
Also in candle lights
And in each of us
Singly
And specially together
Now
x
The one who saves is blessed
And offers blessing
And is the one
As one
Who provides seriously
And playfully as well
x
Is here
Beyond the count of days
And nights
But who is here
Inside these eight,
All the intimate hours
As we draw near to them
To have,
To share
x
Next year in Jerusalem
Then
And now with family
x
From the source of blessing,
Bless
And
Keep you, friends
x
C L Couch
x
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Call of the Light
Photo by Robert Zunikoff on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Art Show
x
My goodness,
It’s brilliant outside
The green has changed to red
Lit by the angles of
The sun’s afternoon
x
The larger trunks
Are tubes of transit
Moving our eyes
To the show
For which there’s no ticket
But the chilly air
(also a transiting device)
x
What is blue is blue
In the moment
Looking out and up
There is no impedance
From a cloud
Or interruption
Of a contrail
x
If there were
It would be a
Recipe’s ingredient:
Another element in
A complex design
x
It’s quiet through the window
There could be movement
But there isn’t any
Maybe to stay the moment
We may look longer
Let the silence
Stun the colors
x
Have this
As a MidAtlantic gift
Before a winter’s
Bareness calls,
Giving notice to
Another kind
Of traveling exhibit
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Hear the Sky
x
Today the sky is talking through
The rain,
Discussing how to wash the
Earth
Tonight the sky
Might be humming a humid tune
About solace, anyway, and rest
x
The sky can sing
Through brightened colors
The rainbow, yes,
But don’t forget the message
In the blue,
Beauty that is not owned
By anyone
That doesn’t care for borders
But flies over them
Unchallenged
x
The sky is its own master
We can hear that anytime
It will speak its blessings
Or admonishments
Maybe we should listen
And respect
And offer messages of harmony
Ourselves
x
Does the sky hear us?
It may have heard
It might hear again
x
C L Couch
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Sunset in Vancouver
Photo by Ferdinand Stöhr on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Let Me Tell You about My Day
(first hour or so)
x
Pre-dawn
x
Blue
And if you look into it,
A promise of silver
x
In a while,
The mourning doves might call
Take over for the cardinals
And the robins
Who might be louder elsewhere
x
The doves
Sing us into green
x
Town noise might subsume
The outside sounds
(except the doves who
are right against the window)
Except that it is Sunday
So the morning
Should be
Relatively quiet
For nature’s sentineling
And mine
We’ll find out
x
As for other senses,
Touch and smell and taste
Should have their turns
You might
Guess at the prospects
x
There’s still a war
Two wars, three wats
Still a virus
Many viruses
People will die today
And people will be born into
Air-breathing life
x
I’m a little late
Proposing all of this
Because the coffee cup
Slipped from my hand
And all the coffee
Slid
Down the down the
Sides of everything,
Flat surfaces
And cushioned
(a play of surface tension
and of gravity),
To land upon the floor,
Most of it
Slight sweet
More creamy than sweet
An expensive brand
Though not a kind
More dear
x
So I took time to
Clean the mess:
To clear out things,
Take things
To the sink
Where I’ll deal with them,
Sponge and paper towels
And cleaner for
The rest, for the floor
Now things have to dry
Then to be
Cleaned again
And there’s more coffee
To take out from
Its machine
x
Sigh,
One of those days
And what does that mean?
x
I see
The blue
And sense a silver promise
Like new friends
In a scouters’ song
x
I reckon now
You’ll have a day to survey
Finally
Of many hours
I’ll look forward to any
Of that story that
Might come my way
x
C L Couch
x
x
Before Dawn
x
(x = space)
x
x
Onion Snow
x
Crocuses and
Daffodils were
Growing
There is fog
Above the ground
Where condensations
Clatter without
Sound
Strange time of year
Odd conflict
Teaching flowers and
The land
Something
Via snow
Withholding spring
x
Gentle war
We could learn
Without the bombs
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Eva Härich on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Monday’s Children
(coffee then reading, watching, hearing the news)
x
It’s a Monday,
Blue and green
It’s Stephen King’s birthday
And tomorrow is the birthday of
Bilbo Baggins
And Frodo Baggins
The anniversary of
The big party underneath the big tree
Thank goodness for
Big trees
x
Zendaya won the Emmy for lead actress
(though she is an actor)
On TV this past year
Since it’s a kind of peer review
And a mutual admiration
Society of a
Society I am neither in nor out,
I stay up with these things
Tangentially,
Though I’m glad for her
And her
Accomplishment
She must be well-supported
And did I squeeze a bitter grape just now?
x
To all those who accomplish much,
I’m thankful
For those who have helped them,
More so
And for those who accrued
Through
No effort but the virtue of their own,
I am impressed as well as
Pleased, though it’s not about me
And it needn’t be
x
Now, I read today that women make up
Fifty-one percent of my society,
While thirty-one percent are white men
Is this why we’re so
Frightened?
Fear leading to anger
Leading to sin
We burn the crosses, rig elections
Cheat the press to make the case
That we should be in charge
The new majority, by the way,
If we must count
In this fashion
We’ve known for a while will be
Hispanic or Latino,
Going as Latin-x these days
In spite of brimstone efforts
At the border, in the cities
This will happen
x
I’m looking forward to the changes
And when the cap is taken off
Am I a traitor to my kind?
No, my kind
Is homo sapiens—
I can say for myself
That pinkish-pale or whatever
My skin is is interesting enough
But the color wheel is vast
And extraordinary (for being
ordinary)
And it is there
Or here—even the color blind
Know the textures change
x
We are in this variegated world
In the flora
We are the fauna
We don’t need secret knowledge
Except as an exercise,
And bent has always been
The hiding of agenda
x
Join me in the world
All the colors of the senses
(in this way,
synesthetes rule)
Patricians, even partisans
Let go
With everyone, take hold
Of what is good
What is love
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Roman Bozhko on Unsplash
The Wheelhouse, Los Angeles, United States
Handlebar Tape at Wheelhouse Coffee
x
Coeli
The sky is a
Wow
Blue
The kind a robin’s egg
Could say
Hey, you
My color came from you
The green is
Startling, too
As if to say
Surprise!
I was here,
All the time
In this humid place
Of climate change
(yes, it’s real
sorry, children
we’re leaving this
for you)
Maybe for
A change,
The rain last night
Cleared out
The steamy parts
For this morning
If so,
Thank you, rain!
When I lived
Higher up,
It used to happen this way
All the time
Clear sky after
Rain that cleans
C L Couch
Photo by Kambani Ramano on Unsplash
Sossusvlei Sand Dunes, Namib Naukluft Park, Namibia
Mother & Daughter
Synesthesia
Blue is a magic number
I know, Schoolhouse Rock fans
It should be three
And it is
But sometimes associations need
To take a second seat
In favor of new leanings
Today is Saturday
It’s orange
C L Couch
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