Loss Is Great
(a fantasy)
1
Loss is great
So in loss
Like a song
I wander
And
I wonder
I’m sure the loss in heaven
Was felt greatly
More so
Maybe
Than the war that followed
That goes on
Still
Perhaps
What do we know
Of time and strategy
Among
Timeless
(and all-strategic)
Beings
Will it be over
When
Revelation says so
And how much is this war
Our war
It seems
For lack of orders
We do not fight
In this
And yet
Something like effects
Are always with us in
Mortality
That is
Temptation
Even falls
Great falls
Some of us
Take
And how much influence
How much willfulness
Decided
How much
Or all
Of it
Person or demon
Devil
Behind it all
Deceiving
That seems to be its job
So is the war all
Around us
Because
I don’t think we’re training
For it
I don’t think we’re supposed to be
Fighting
In it
Meaning
I mean
How could we
2
Orders
Above
Has me thinking
Order
Then orderly
(the noun more than
the adverb)
And might I serve as
An orderly
Behind
The line
Fixing
(helping to fix)
Wounded angels
Why
That would be
Wonderful service
Yes
The wonder
In the angels
But the wonder in
The service
For I could not fight for lack
Of wings
Or blades
Or
You know
An unlimited kind of strength
Yet
I could serve this way
To fix the angels
Then with trench-deep regret
Know
They return
And should a demon
Hurt
Come to the table
Then we fix it
Too
Because in love
There can be no other
Craft
No other option
To apply
Though
When repaired
It
Too
Returns
Maybe tries to hurt us
As it begins
I don’t know what protections
Might be
Afforded orderlies
From Earth
(or moon or Mars
depending on the length
of battle)
Maybe no succor
Whatsoever
Since
Triage
Would be for
Celestial soldiers
Of all orders
First
And there’s the word
Orders again
And maybe I wake up
To hear the cry
Or is it
Near my ear
The mourning dove
Through
Glass
And I wake
To mortal pain’s
Return
C L Couch
(one allusion is to “I Wander as I Wonder,” a song by John Jacob Niles)
Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash
in response to Melissa’s Flash Fiction prompt
(tall door on snow-covered road)
The Sheriff Does the Shooting, Thank You
Shouldn’t there be wrecked cars on the other side of this? That’s the way it was at the start of Fargo? You remember, the long (long) stretch of northern Midwestern highway with sites and signs of murder to the side. How easy it must be to drive off such snow-and-ice covered straight stretches, losing your concentration just a bit while driving. And who doesn’t lapse? That’s only human. Well, this is my road now. My constituency. I’m the sheriff; and if you dare to ask, no, I did not shoot the deputy.
C L Couch
Photo by Ryan De Hamer on Unsplash
(x = space)
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Quasi una Fantasia
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More gray skies—
I know the sun is healthier
But the gray doesn’t show
The dust bunnies in
Their warrens, which
Creatures I’ve
Discovered like to roam
The place at night,
Which is why there are
So many new signs
In the morning
x
Like gray skies, I’ve come
To like dust bunnies;
They do not eat real carrots,
And the only thing
Like pellets is
More dust upon the floor
x
C L Couch
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Photo by Mattia Astorino on Unsplash
Riserva Naturale Torbiere del Sebino d’ Iseo, Corte Franca, Italia
I see you
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