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Piglet and Samwise

(x = space)

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Piglet and Samwise

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Piglet and Samwise

Would that

We could

Only think on them

To be them

Or to appreciate

Steadfast

Companions

And companionship

So close to us

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They’re smart

Don’t miss that

They’re clever

Too

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Sometimes they carry

Oh

So much

And are capacious

To take on our burdens

Too

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They trim the verge

They stir the honey

In the pot

For consistency

Well

Of verge

And pot

Or rather

What’s inside

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They have their homes

But leave them gladly

To find us

And then to journey

With us

When

They reach us

And we tell them

Or somehow we know

We’re moving on

x

You’re leaving

Then

We’re going with you

To the other side of the wood

Or through

Minas Morgul

Into Mordor

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Like grace

They will go far with us

Wishing to go

The entirety

Of the calling

To adventure

x

And maybe they will

Or maybe there’s a part

We’ll have to go on

All our own

And then

To meet them later

(with success)

Someday to consider

Final matters

(then)

x

And in the mean time

There are parties

And there is

Conversation

On paths

Off the paths

On bridges

Inside when there are storms

Outside

After

x

Christopher Robin once

Said about his mother

Than when she left their home

To wander round

(that is, around)

The hundred-acre wood

Christopher had asked

Would she like him

To go with her?

x

She said no

But when I return

Greet me as if

I had been gone

A long

Long

Time

x

Maybe we always have

Such friends

As heroes or companions

Recalling

We are both

To each other

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C L Couch

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Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
“Pooh!” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

― A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

(cited at or by GoodReads)

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Piglet, as you know, is the companion to Winnie the Pooh.  Samwise (Gamgee) is the gardener and companion to Frodo Baggins, the bearer of the ring in The Lord of the Rings.  Each separately or both together was or were mentioned in a sermon that I heard today.  I’m sorry I don’t remember why.  Jesus had companions, too, though that was not the pastor’s point (or they were not his points).

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The story of Christopher Robin and his mother is told in The Enchanted Places, an autobiography.

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Photo by Arwin Neil Baichoo on Unsplash

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Long-Distance Rates

(x = space)

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Long-Distance Rates

(for Susan)

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I live long distance

So must you

What with

E-mails

Texts

DMs

Chat rooms

And now the added layer

Of A-I

Bumfustication

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Where are you

Where am I

We’re here

In our respective heres

We own our molecules

And due

The air we breathe

The ideal cycle of

Good air goes in

Bad air goes out

Oxygen

To carbon dioxide

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We live with plants

They love us

For our air

And they make food possible

For us

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Which makes me wonder if

Distance is

Migratory

After all

Driven by seasons

And circumstances

Dodge the volcano here

Fly around the first fire

Stay high

Over the earthquake

x

Closeness might be relative

With our relatives

(hah)

Or when we convene

From Mars

It will only work that way

In the irony of distance

Safe with colleagues in

The interplanetary room

Then

Even the distance

To the moon

Will seem as close

As Artemis

Hunting

Dancing

With her followers

x

But back

To you and me

Where it starts

And where it counts

God inside

They say

We say

And we believe

And let spirits

Manage that

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Flesh is something else

We know

We zoom

And those are electrons

We hurry

But that’s style

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We touch in the same place

And anymore

That’s miracle

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C L Couch

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Photo by Resource Database on Unsplash

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Faith Alone

(x = space)

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Faith Alone

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The Bible

Through a friend

Took us to Ephesians

Yesterday

Where we are saved

By grace through faith

One thing required

Of us,

To believe

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Faith alone

Ignites the spark

As if the kindling

For the fire of grace

Were waiting

On the inside

All this time

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Let salvation blaze

In heaven and

In testimony

While

Here we need to know

Whose means for fire

Rests

And waits

For the one thing

That matters

For a spark

A start

To save

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Ephesians 2:8

(thank you, David)

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C L Couch

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Photo by Andrew Seaman on Unsplash

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2 poems about power

(x = space)

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2 poems about power

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A Day without Power

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The plug on the computer broke

Last night

I had what was left of

The battery’s charge

I thought about what to do

Without the use the computer

To get a part for the computer

x

I live in a small town

There aren’t big signs saying

Fix Your Computer Here

But I call a friend

And with real words we discussed

The problem

x

He knows more than I

And so helped me make a list

Of non-electronic possibilities

I moved on one of these

Using the car

(not a mouse)

Going to a place with walls

Not firewalls

Looking people in the face

And telling my brief story

x

We found something universal

That could fit

My machine

I purchased the new thing

That wasn’t cheap

But a day without

Going into two days

Was not desirable

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In the world,

There are better needs

And bigger

I didn’t lose electricity

And I’m not in a war zone

I am poor

But there’s help to get me food

When need be

And sometimes other things

x

I am sick

And usually tired

But am ambulatory

And have lots of pills

That help

And there are side effects,

Which mostly thanks to taxes

And my age

I can afford

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I tend to think your needs

Must be greater than mine,

More real

And more pressing

But in my larger story

There was one decent passage

I can share with you now,

Hopefully to hear

Your story, too

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The Power of Friendship

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We’ve been through COVID

Got our shots

More or less retired

From our jobs

We both believe

And sometime have

Good conversations about faith

We share books

We don’t shop

Or take trips together

We might cheer on different teams

He has a house

(mortgage paid off recently)

He is married

Has three children

I’m forever the third wheel

x

We give rides for each other

When needed

For tests or procedures

He’s gotten me to hospitals

When necessary

And sat through

Unovertly

Through many times of waiting

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There’s power in this

Unplanned

We simply met through the department

And it’s been many years

Untypical perhaps

Too academic

I think we both

Like the mind

But there is more

As there is more to people

And a complex world

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The future will provide

There is no prophecy

Apart

We have our issues

And our challenges

Together

What David and Jonathan

Might define

Or Gertrude and Alice

Something in the ether

And before the TV

Watching movies (us three)

On Friday

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C L Couch

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Photo by Robert Linder on Unsplash

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Very Tall Bill

(x = space)

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Very Tall Bill

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My college roommate died

I saw a blurb in a newsletter

Then went to find an article

He was a teacher

A theatrician

William Kennedy, Ph.D.

Known as Bill to most

And to me

He was a good guy

In the way that guys

That people

Can be good

He was ill

How badly I did not know

I guess the illness took him

At the last

His brother is survived

I knew him some

I knew Bill better

And sometimes wondered

What a pair

So oddly matched

His six-foot and a half frame

(I never really knew

the measurement)

My five-nine

Walking somewhere

At school

And the day we dared

Walk on the grass

Against a rule

To play some Frisbee

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I am sad

Through and through,

It seems

So as if to feel numb

For a while, now

God take and keep Bill

Teaching

Writing plays

Making productions for

Heaven’s revue

I trust

There is Dad’s Root Beer there

In the green room

At the cast party

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C L Couch

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Bill taught and wrote, directed plays for decades in his scholarly, professorial career.

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Comedy and Tragedy masks from the Princess Theatre, Decatur, Alabama

image by Marjorie Kaufman

https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38298189

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Starts with a Story

(x = space)

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Starts with a Story

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On a hazy

Saturday,

We talk about

The past

Long past

How the human genius

And the genius of creation

All ancient

Partnerships

Ask better of us

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Look at the red curve

In Altimira

I think

An arch that goes much further

Than a count

A quota

Even for life

The lives of

Ancient companions

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Red and black

Lines

So much more than

Counting

That have ancient majesty

A thinking of high places

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Pointed Notre-Dame

Or round Saint Paul’s

May rise in tandem with

Ancient siblinghood

Reasons for the hunt

For the migration

After meals

For living

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For living

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C L Couch

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The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber, David Wengrow

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Bison in the cave of Altamira.

(image) By Daniel Villafruela. – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22778033

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Doctrine for Three

(x = space)

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Doctrine for Three

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In dim light,

Something was handed me

A gift

In the dark outside,

We talked about

His father

Who had died recently

Whom I liked

(whom he liked)

And of family, generally

x

His father’s legacy

Was to share outside

The family

I being one

I could argue worthiness

But then I’d miss the point:

Grace is free

It really is

Without conditions

And has to be

x

C L Couch

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Anatomy of a dying stormcell. A stormcell dissolves over the San Francisco Peaks.

Photo by NOAA on Unsplash

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Small Matters

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

GuangZhou

 

 

 

Prayers for Buddy-Boo

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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