thy faithfulness and 14 June
(two poems)
thy faithfulness
and now for God
though maybe
God has been with me
from the start
because if not my own
it’s in
God’s nature
and certainly God’s
skill
and also
desire
the same desire
that made everything
and more
the wish
the will
to love the everything
and above all
and with the will of
unfallen angels
to love most
ourselves
we are that important
not for demons
whose interest in consumption
is not the healthy use of
creation
but frankly
to suck us dry
of flesh and spirit
and then display the husks
eagerly
in hell
but we have God
and willful angels
elected
on our side
and in the room
though will leave us quiet
when quiet
is soulfully
or physically demanded
quiet
time
and should we wish
some company
divine
with less than a word
shall be here
to cheer
and to guide
to love
and to show
how love
begins and ends
with presence
one form
or
another
14 June
(2024)
happy
Flag Day
Mitzi’s birthday
the puppy
(not the flag)
who crawled up
on the porch
the day our family
moved
into Pittsburgh
northern suburbs
and remained with us
the next
seventeen years
and was
extraordinary
patient with
several
growing children
as for the flag
you know
we flew it
very day
I recall
there are some things it seems I wrote about most years; today is a thing
c l couch
photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
King Ralph
x
Bittersweet remembrance
As we have
Of all
Remembrance
This of my dog
Our dog
The family dog
From years ago
I used to take him
To the creek
Way out back
Behind the neighborhood
I’d let him run
Through rocks and water
(all was shallow)
He was free
And yet he stayed
With me
There was an incident
With some cows
Imagine the same patched colors
On the bovines
And himself
But came back
Under the fence
And through the water
And the rocks
Once again
But tempers reigned
Among the humans
And I left
I did not see Ralph again
Getting old and sick
As we do
Weighed down by disappointments
Maybe
As we have
Yet I remember liveliness
The chain leash upon the hook
(irony
for freedom)
That I pulled
Only a little
And from wherever
Ralph came running
Knowing it was time
To go out
And run some more
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Alvan Nee on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Go for These Days
(Flag Day)
x
Aw
Today is Flag Day
And Mitzi’s birthday
The flags are flown
My dad did that
While we
Placed crepe paper through
The spokes
Of our bicycles
More of a deal on
Memorial Day
But that was past
And we had
Supplies
x
We’ve had
The different flags
I liked Betsy Ross well enough
Though to question her
Is fine
About the Stars and Stripes
Story
As long as we don’t excoriate
It seems
That no matter what
She was a patriot
x
See
I believe
In these stupid things
Don’t Tread on Me
Soaring Fort McHenry
Semper Fidelis
I think
They speak
To birth and to progress
Of a nation
Of this nation
x
And it’s Mitzi’s birthday
She was our dog
And faithful
At it
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Doggone Dog-Here Dog Days
x
Dog days
For dogs
Cat days are every day
To cats
Winter might have dog days
But the famous days are
Summer
When it’s late
And there are days of heat
And humidity
When dogs are famous for
Lying down,
Stretched out on boards
Of Southern porches
While the humans
Sip up lemonade
And talk
About the weather
x
n.b. for humans
x
Keep water close by
And bring them in from
The heat
When you go in
Keeping in mind
That they’re your friends
And mine
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash x
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Wonder Dog
x
I used to let
The dog go
In the creek
Taking off the leash
Once we were behind
The houses
What a happy dog
Upstream was all right
There was freedom in that,
Too
x
Muscles got used
That needed using
The shaking of the chain
Hanging in the closet meant
That
All this could happen
x
Once released
x
C L Couch
x
x
Water Flowing over Rocks
Photo by Robert Zunikoff on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Dog Days Days of Dogs
x
I imagine dog days
In August,
But it’s been so hazy
And it’s been hot
I think of dogs
Such as bloodhound
Dogs (whatever looming,
drooping species)
Owning dropped places on
Front porches,
The kind of porch that drapes
From end to end
Or side to side
x
And the dogs, they are
Listless shapes of
Tired, teaching something
To the rest of us
About not being
In the way
When the way is not
A deal
And we do better
Owning places
Away from doors
And under windows
x
Like the dogs of summer
Something for
The cats of winter, too
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Francesca Albert on Unsplash
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(x = space)
x
x
Inaugurations
x
January enters
Like a wet
Dog,
Poor dog
x
Winter is
Allowed
But the ground
In PA is
Spring or
Fall swamp-like
Instead with
Additional on the
Way (which
means more
rain)
x
Four-year change
Is coming, not
A holiday
I wonder
x
But something
In the USA
We do so that
Change
Keeps things
The same
x
Not that we
Are the
Exemplar
We believe we are
Or
Should be
To the world
x
What do you know?
A real dog is
Barking, below
x
Go inside,
Dog,
Go
x
Leave certain
Things
Outside to
The oath-owners
x
C L Couch
x
x
Go, Dog, Go is a story (about dogs) written by P. D. Eastman.
x
Photo by Victoria Palacios on Unsplash
Sequoia National Forest, United States
Glory and wonder here on little old earth. This shot is from a particularly magical hike through the Sequoia National Forest. We were so up high in the mountains that the clouds decided to settle around us and create a mystical fog all around us.
x
Small Matters
(enormously)
Small dog
Small death
Dogs grow old and die
Better we outlive the ones
We care for
We are small, too
Not in worth
But then, neither was he
Buddy, Bud, Boo
I don’t know how old he was
He was my neighbor
Now he’s gone
I’m sorry
He was soft
He was funny
I took a nip or two from him
(you know the kind I mean)
I don’t care
I’ve known dogs
I knew this one well enough
To me, it came on fast
What do I know
His mouth, by the way,
Was small
(maybe that’s why I didn’t
worry about the bites)
He could manage the small
Tennis-ball type things
I gave him some
Well, he’s gone from here
Dog-heaven is a destination
In a country song
And where he is for real
I’ll miss him
Not as much as she will
Her dog
His human
It’s a new connection, now
C L Couch
Thank you praying and thinking about Buddy. (Goodness, officious announcing has rendered thoughts and prayers into specious-sounding things, though they’re not when real.) Buddy died, quickly it seems. If there’s power in prayer—and there is—then your prayers helped get him to his next home smoothly and painlessly.
Another pet friend of mine died recently. Like Buddy, this one had a wonderful life, especially as irascible as he was. This was Old Poodle about whom I’ve written with Old Dachshund (who died a while ago). About these dogs, my sister often said “It’s a good thing they’re cute.” I often sat for them and typically found their behaviors more amusing than annoying. But then I could leave.
I’m sorry for Denise who took care of Buddy and my sister’s family who cared for Wiener and Schnitzel (my brother-in-law, the chef, provided the names). And I’m thankful for humans who give good lives to pets.
Photo by Kenny Luo on Unsplash
Prayers for Buddy-Boo
I know there are things
happening. Wars both
declared and un- or not
so much. Freedoms
challenged by despotism.
I probably don’t need
to mention disease.
But there’s a little—I mean,
little—dog who always
treats me with meaningful
indifference, and now
he’s sick. He could use
help through prayer and-or
some good and hopeful
thinking. You know I mean
the actual kind. Saint
Francis would approve and so
would mom. He’s in the
hospital, and the photo
somehow looks both
cute and solemn. His name
is Buddy, which is his role
to my friend who is
distraught. She isn’t asking
for your help. I thought I
would. And offer thanks
in agency for everyone.
C L Couch
Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash
(detail)
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