The Warmth of Light
(light about light)
Am I done
I mean for now and
Not
Tomorrow
The brilliant light behind
Me
Through the window
Keeps on shining
Making
Dust-exposed squares upon
The floor
Which is fine
Against
A social expectation
Light is yellow
It is gold
It is precious as we say
Of gold
Against the grayness of
The winter
And too many days
That do not shine
At all
Until
Maybe toward sunset
When sunlight shall slide beneath
The line of clouds
Before
The night
To make a light-prized
If late
Day of it
More usual
Winter’s day
Rather today and
In
These parts
We have a gift
In part
Because the buildings
Aren’t so tall
And
Well
Because I’m looking at it
Even warmed a bit
By a ray
And you might be looking
And be warmed
Should the winter-light ironic
Be good
In your
Current situation
Otherwise if
Far
Far
South
(not
so-far polar south)
Seek a/c
While some might think
Too
Light on light
To write about
Though
Maybe the proof is in
To read
About
And
I don’t know
Maybe feel all right
After
C L Couch
Photo by Nadine Marfurt on Unsplash
St. Gallen, Switzerland
Fox without the Hounds
I live in the suburbs of London
now
I enjoy a better class of
living
by trash
Londoners (Englanders,
Britishers)
Are not allowed to shoot me
Or pretty much molest me
in any way
Parliament
it seems
is on my side
I win
I think
I win
C L Couch
(for Br’er Fox)
for Melissa Lemay’s Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #259
via https://graceofthesun.com/what-did-the-fox-say/
Peter Lloyd on Unsplash
As We Are, No Other
(Christmas Eve, anytime)
This is a good surprise
We are invited to a dance
And we don’t have to know
Anything about steps or rhythm
Or the key of the orchestra
It’s a party, too
All we have to do to respond
Is see the card
In leaves or
Hear the invitation in the branches’
Song to sky
It’s for a birthday, yes
Don’t worry about timing
The child knows of better things
And will manage precision for you
We have this chance
Will it come again?
Yes, I think so
But we have it
Why not take part now?
Mister Dickens claimed
A few pounds make us happy
So Fezziwig will close the shop
And take the silent cost
In that
And pay for decorations, too
We might have to be our own accountants
White elephants might attend
(maybe black cats
zebras to negotiate)
There might be stone soup for supper
Served in lucky pots
Hey, but it’s a party
And if we own nothing
All the better for arriving
What do newborns have,
And how welcome are they?
It’s a party without consequences,
Because we will behave
Enjoying the relief of good, clean fun,
Everyone welcome
The birds will sing
If we don’t want to
And sing, anyway
Nature speaks in volumes
It’s miracle
We could provide the miracle in
Listening
Enjoy it all
Bring what you have
Or nothing
Remembering that at this kind of
Festival,
We are the gifts
C L Couch
note
White elephant is a metaphor from the USA and Britain, based on Asian custom (with real elephants).
https://pixabay.com/en/elephant-skin-elephant-245071/
clcouch123 
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