try
the sun tries
and there’s wind to welcome
blue
to highlight evergreen
with leafless branches whose
slender ballets
look
tireless
and to hear some whispers whose
code
only known between the sky
and these parts
of Earth
try
regardless
and thank goodness
c l couch
photo by Mila Young on Unsplash
in this late season
it is bright and
hot
yellow
emerald like Oz
dark branches hold up spring
fullness
blossoms’
debut
voices to whispers in the trees
dismal bouts are done for now so
that
the moon should look clear
in its expressions in
the night
c l couch
photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash
Hello and Thank You and Goodbye
Here the trees are empty now
That’s fair
Some leaves hang on
Inevitably
Bravely
Though winter is unchanging
Too
And with intent
And will
Comes on
C L Couch
Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
two more brief poems today
x
x
Black Branches
x
The squirrel ran criss-cross
Up the branches
x
Zig-zag ladder
I certainly had not noticed
Upon
Looking out
Into the dark-grey day
x
The squirrel’s smart
Good legs
The tail helps
x
And the creature’s
Totally
Impulsively involved with nature
To be so in tune
With all vibrations
x
Must be astounding
To have so much
Ordinary
Magic
x
x
8 to try
x
Hanukkah tonight
starts
8 days for a miracle
x
what if
we try this for our
universal selves
x
8 days for peace
before they arrive
that is
something
outside ourselves
to judge
x
pretend
there is a deadline
x
find out
how far we get
then let it stay
for real
beyond 8
you know
as long as we can
or may
x
8 and more
as if the world
were at stake
which
you know
it is
x
x
Photo by Mila Tovar on Unsplash
x
x
C L Couch
x
Tree of Life
The soul must be amazing
Some say it’s like a bird
And why not
I don’t mean a matter for debate
I mean the spirit that’s inside us
That leaves us when
We can bear no more
Where it catches next, I do not know
Branches in a tree
What has it for keeping
I think it is somewhere
I guess it might be doctrine
And so for argument
To say it owns eternal
C L Couch
Photo by Kushagra Kevat on Unsplash
Second-Storey Moor
On a misty-morning
Winter January day,
I look out the window
All I see is fog and
Lack of definition
Except for one tree
Of bare branches
Reaching black into
My windowed sky
I didn’t expect the
Art and science of
This: skillful, narrow
Firm and slender
Branches reaching
With a clarity that
Startles a black vision
Against smoky
Pervasive mist
Grey behind each
Branch, rendering
All else vague
What is familiar
Now is mystery
And invitation
clcouch123 
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