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
pointed leaves pressing
dark on glass before pale sky
wind returning rain
c l couch
photo by Homa Amani on Unsplash
“Waiting with frozen eyes.”
Tabriz, East Azerbaijan Province, Iran
yesterday was Holocaust Remembrance Day, and so the following is for this day and any day we remember something larger than ourselves that still involves our responsibility in happiness or sadness to enact
day of remembrance
yesterday was for remembrance
each day is for remembrance
and recall
together
with poppies
or monuments of angles
the ceremonies we create
over what has happened
so we might remember
and not
as Santayana says
doom ourselves
to repetition
of the dire
and destructive
take it slowly on these days
don’t rush to something else
the prophet margin
will remain
in the margins
a call of justice
that is heard
might mediate
with all the other worldly matters
all our loves
the good things
the distracting things
that sometimes we must order
like new things
especially through
our days of remembrance
c l couch
photo by Pete Nuij on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Our Days
x
Yesterday was
Ocean Day
And also many people
Many of them
Students
Wore orange not for
Protestants
But for an end
To violence
By guns,
The bullets inside
Guns
x
Two days ago
Was D-Day
When by the thousands
Soldiers landed
To take back
France from Hitler
And the rest of
Europe on
Which he had
Had his eye
And after a year
Of slogging
In a blood-soaked way
Town by town
Bridge by bridge
Europe
Was restored
If Germany divided
x
Days for marking–we
Have so
Many now
With added reasons
Each cause
And each remembrance
Just
And exigent
Even the silly,
Days for doughnuts
And cat breeds
We need the breaks
Sometimes we need
The money
Come from
Merchandising
x
Sometimes we
Simply want the break
An excuse for
Chocolate
Or for ice cream
For a ball game
A parade
x
A walk
A conversation
Or simply
To stop
And think about things
Differently for
A while
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash
x
Look
(listen)
Creation’s green
And blue and yellow
And by extension
Brown the tree
And gray in shadow
Black the city street
Red the bricks across
Silver steel
On buildings, too
I’m not sure what to say
About the color glass
No colors
Or all
C L Couch
Photo by Jessica Ruscello on Unsplash
Treasure Island Flea Market, San Francisco, United States
Crazy Boy
(get cool)
Cattails
One word
Cat tails
Two words
When referring to the actual
Cat’s tail
Don’t pull at it
Cattails might not hit back
Cats with tails do
They should
That’s as much advice
As I have for you
My head hurts
And my nose
Yippee-allergens
I know they could be the other thing
I’m hot from moving things around
And I wish I had all my pills
In this uncertain time
There’s sun today
I hear the virus doesn’t like the sun
If it had preferences
But also doesn’t like cool weather
So my MidAtlantic spring might be
Salubrious for a time
Cool, sunny days?
I could wish them ‘round the world
For health’s sake
Light for buoyancy
Of skin and spirit
Enough cold, not too much,
To relax our ninety-eight degrees or so
Inside
C L Couch
recently, I read about the sun and about cold air in two different places where I think crazy people do not write or otherwise contribute
I am not a doctor and don’t play one on television
“Cool” by Leonard Bernstein
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash
(3)
A Lesson from the Story
In The Horse and His Boy
A young person is punished
In the way she caused
The wounding of another
Aslan is very present there
In Narnia
Potent and immediate
The good thing is that
Judgment’s taken care of
Neither need worry over it again
A moment’s wrong
Another’s retribution
And we are clean with God
Again
Not bad, pre-Apocalypse
Before the book is opened
One last time
For good
A Grown-Up Narrative
Some adults with ADHD
Say they don’t like the medication
I understand
They feel the edge has been
Worn down
Lacking what is needed
Sharp awareness to get through
Each day
I understand
And, seriouser still,
The feeling that oneself has
Been worn down, too
Filed in every way
I have a medication that
Calms me down
Cools me
I’m thankful for it
Am I less of me?
I think parts of me that haven’t
Got to surface very much
Now have a chance for rising
And for air
Am I less of me?
If I am, is that so bad?
The peacefulness, it might
Be worth it
For the fuzzying of awareness
(I know what’s around me)
The challenge of the
Deeps of spirit I must swim against
I feel for those like me
Like themselves
Who favor the back stroke or the
Breast stroke
When one should not have to be
In the pool
I know it’s more than metaphor
Metaphor’s a pointer
Everything gets real
After that
Not Tonight, I Have a Headache
I’m sorry
I never got it right, you know
I must have a life
To offer it
I must have built something
And I didn’t
Praise and all impressiveness
To those who have
Who found enough for themselves
And to share
That is the way
That is the way of life
It secures the present and
Leans into the future
C L Couch
ecumenical?
Psalm 27
a birthdate song
My day once a month,
Nine times three or
Thrice three multiplied
Such numeric niceties:
How much do they
Matter?
I make special one day
In my own way, taking
The number to own
Eccentrically
My little arrangement,
My small deal, to
Negotiate in the world
A little something
Shadowed that is mine
Small possessions, Lord,
Do you mind?
I’m guessing not
We all need to remake
Certain days
Journaling at the Start of 5 February
Added coffee to the canister. Drank from a
Mouthwash bottle nearly empty with a full one
Beside. Same with toothpaste, when it’s time.
These small abundances matter much.
It’s a bunch of days. So the television tells me.
Something to do with weather, with a kind of
Food, and with the heart. Maybe something pre-
Valentine’s. I slept five or six hours, which is not
Enough. I slept under a throw, which is not enough
Though better than a blanket making me too hot.
Too hot in winter. (In a cold-winter clime.) That
Should be a blessing.
clcouch123 
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