the patch of blue
while
I was driving and I guess the clouds were breaking up
if
only for a while and in the middle
well
I saw it
pale
set against the gray
and ringed by
white
all
uncertain ‘round the edges
as the afternoon became
a thoughtful
season
c l couch
photo by Zoshua Colah on Unsplash
anymore
3 July 1863
the heat of July in southern Pennsylvania
it’s hotter now
these days
but a hundred fifty years ago and more
then
inside uniforms bearing
supplies and heavy guns
and
two days fighting even
to serve on the winning side and then a final
charge
to determine victory
then the march on Harrisburg
to end the war
and
the cannons fired too soon if like the rebel yell
but
too early over the field
then following orders though the noise
had cleared
the damage done with time
to reassemble
the smoke gone and
regardless
came the charge
over a flat place with little cover
and
stopping wasn’t ordered
anyway
and the soldiers
with their leaders were
cur
down
Hood shot down and
only some made it
to the stone wall of the enemy
and
were killed
there
and Lee called up Pickett to sort his army
for more fighting
to which
Picket proclaims with anger in his blood
and grief for loss
to Lee that there was no army of his leading
anymore that
day
the charges lay on the field
free in the worst way
from
any earthly order
anymore
clc
photo by Johnny Kaufman on Unsplash
“Roadside Sunset”
Gettysburg, PA, USA
how the day begins and ends
It’s a dark-gray day
there are green and brown to see
the sky scoured of blue
hear and see my friends
share a meal of smell and taste
touch the hours away
c l couch
photo by Mahdi Bafande on Unsplash
old gray
1
nothing
in my eccentricity
like
old gray stone
we have some fences around
here
a few are nice
while most are overgrown
there are some buildings
too
that stand
the association for me
is
with ghosts
of those who set
or
raised whichever and
the story
with the persons who are lost
maybe
in wars between the states
or
the war with England for first freedom
and
there’s what
to keep out
what
to keep in
speaking of first and
who
was here
and to extend the poet
classic and ironic meanings
it might have been
true and
could
still be that
good fences make good neighbors
so then
stone fences make stone
neighbors
2
texture
moss
what is fallen
what remains of what
has
fallen and what
keeps the form and
stands
for meaning
living metaphor for
boundary
for
protection
that could yet
be actual
for a building made with local
material
and that we mean to keep
and
to repair
and it’s the fences we have more of
in
all states and they are old
and some look pushed together while others
forgotten or
ignored
or someone owning
likes
the fallen texture
lopped shapes
even the worked through parts
made low
through
time
and unknown circumstances
they make good pictures
I believe
photographed
or
painted or fashioned with material
of one’s own
color
black and white
what
is decided
what’s at hand
or if we may
to
go there
smell
touch the long sides or
where they’re broken
touch
the nubs and
feel
the age
the stories
and I will make up stories of and
for
the ghosts there or
nearby
to have a story by my
home fire and
maybe an invitation for a hearing
by yours
3
the buildings and the fences
and
especially the fences
to drive by
as
the buildings are kept mostly at
a distance
but all
appreciable and made when
words
like
middlesex meant
something for a status and
a name
and the word we know
from
another poem
later Gettysburg close
about which
so
much has been said and sung and on
which
to borrow from a third so much depends
though
these are matters
upright or collapsed
like
dreams and
visions
we forget
to tell
the next ones on the way
the next ones
here
c l couch
Frost on fences, also Longfellow and William Carlos Williams
with another note by me
an unintentional study
even a reverie
though
I could have meant that
briefly
photo by Richard R on Unsplash
break
the sun breaks up
the gray
which I think is good
at
least when the gray is pale and blanketing
without interesting texture
from lines of
clouds
maybe of promises of needful rain
c l couch
photo by Arno Senoner on Unsplash
two windows
the day has turned
a little gray
and the way I saw two windows lined
in the brick house across the street
got
me thinking about school
and how when I was in
it didn’t hurt
to be
looking out
well
until caught at it
nonetheless where
the colors
were not made of paper or the time
of paper
either
but promise that we’ll get
to go
even if uncertain where
I should be going freely and so
learned to keep
a sense
and wish
for
freedom
hmm
and now the day is gold again
c l couch
photo by Waldemar Brandt on Unsplash
A little yellow house in the fishing town Büsum, North Sea.
the building across the street is red brick, but I like this photograph
wet day unterrible outside
the dropping points of willow green
drip into gray
rendering the name of tree
worthwhile
a good name if metaphor
if anthropomorphizing
making
people out of trees
not by Ovid’s recollection
working
rather by our skill at changing
the tree into person
not the sap
but
tears that weep
the willow is Old Man
the trees throw apples
‘cause
they’re cross with the travelers to
Oz
and so in our wonderlands
we make more
of what we sense
from
ordinary
so that there’s more insightful
and triumphant
to wonder in
the land
if
crying
angry natures
to encounter
c l couch
(us from fatherland, more often motherland)
photo by S L on Unsplash
barely green out there
gray like an expectation
transition era
c l couch
photo by Caleb Wright on Unsplash
grayed over to see
and gray could have a scent or
touch the gray to feel
c l couch
photo by Spruce on Unsplash
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