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Friday and Saturday Children

Friday and Saturday Children

 

Writing in a cube

 

Whose walls are

Translucent

I can make out movement

Maybe I make a noise

You can see enough

To know someone is in here

 

We’re claustrophobic, so

We can’t stay at this long

How about

We take down the walls

No one sees through, really

Works through, anyway

 

Maybe we could re-make them into floors

Or doors, the kind that come in

Halves so that there’s a shelf

To lean on

While we converse about

The new day

 

Invitations follow

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by Wolfgang Eckert from Pixabay

 

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Call Me

Call Me

 

Anytime, we may

Open our eyes

To see that God is watching us

Not so much to judge us

As to love us

Judgment comes, but love

Abounds

Grace like that in dancers’

Movements

 

God has seen it all

And despite that

Despite all of that

There is love here

And everywhere

Love that will wait outside

Until invited in

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Flemming Fuchs on Unsplash

 

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Second-Storey Moor

Second-Storey Moor

On a misty-morning
Winter January day,
I look out the window

All I see is fog and
Lack of definition
Except for one tree
Of bare branches

Reaching black into
My windowed sky

I didn’t expect the
Art and science of
This: skillful, narrow
Firm and slender
Branches reaching

With a clarity that
Startles a black vision
Against smoky
Pervasive mist

Grey behind each
Branch, rendering
All else vague

What is familiar
Now is mystery
And invitation

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