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We Can Play

We Can Play

 

A squirrel and a bird play

In the tree

At least that’s how it looks

And sounds

The bird flies up; the squirrel follows

The sounds of chirping and chittering

Sound friendly,

As if I’d know

Though I know the difference between

A purr and a hiss

Ears up or ears laid back

The growl that leads to the bark

So I’m going to call it

Playing

There is no better way to spend

An early morning

If you’re a squirrel or a bird

So let’s pretend

We are squirrels or birds

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash

Unawatuna, Sri Lanka

 

1

Fixing Morning

Fixing Morning

 

Lord,

I don’t know what

To say or do

Thank goodness for the

Autonomic processes

I sit here, tempting frozenness

Fruit of depression

And anxiety, I know

Though like gout,

It could be an exigent bout

With indecision

 

But decision-making requires

Quantities,

And I have none

Feeling beaten around by

The world, because I have been

What is left?

 

Then I look outside:

It is a pale scene

Morning light-blue, yellow light

Upon some branches

Other branches in the shade

Though the leaves are waving green

As if to signal spring, perhaps

Officially some weeks away

 

While, I’m sorry for ingratitude,

I tend to savor

Seasons as they come, anymore

(dreading the extremes—

why did you make these?)

So a sign of spring is fine

Even a comfort (thank you) but

Not a pressing need

I tend to love even when they’re difficult

All times I have

 

So if this pastiche outside

That only I behold has been

(and maybe not)

Arranged at all for me,

It might be an invitation

You know (I know you know),

To sit up,

Eat the toast,

Finish the coffee,

And move on

 

It looks to be a lovely day outside

And if I leave the noise inside

I’m sure I will hear birdsong

So much better

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Austrian National Library on Unsplash

 

1

The Gray Gift

The Gray Gift

 

For the moment,

There is a blanket over everything

Like the one I woke up under

Anticipation of a holiday, perhaps

The blanket is light gray

It settles easily as it’s made up

Of daylight

I’m not sure what we might have done

To earn such protection and

And of

Muted beauty

 

It’s a quiet gift

And will last as long as diaphanous things

Might

Maybe longer, since nature

Knows the way around Main Street

Over it (upon it)

To serve it

And to keep it going

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by wilsan u on Unsplash

I don’t know where this is, but it’s somewhere.

 

0

How to Say It?

How to Say It?

 

God, it’s Monday

That’s not an interjection

Or some kind of epithet

Though God of Mondays would work

Be a working title,

Certainly

 

It’s simply a morning greeting;

I hope to say tomorrow

With the meaning

(and the morning)

God, it’s Tuesday

 

C L Couch

 

 

By 歌川広重 – 東京都立図書館, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=39086057

Morning Glory by Utagawa Hiroshige, 1866 (Japanese Woodblock print)

 

1

Paean

Paean

 

I don’t know what time it is

I mean, it’s mid-morning

Not in an hour of

Dramatic dark or anything

The sky outside’s a wash, in fact

Enough light for movement,

Nothing added

 

But I have slept, at last

And feel the thankful fullness

That comes and lives inside

For a while,

When the right kind of unconsciousness

Has happened over hours

 

There are images of nature on TV

Some kind of early-winter story

In March, I can afford

To let it be romantic

All the layers

That they wear

And that nature provides

 

(later on I look;

it’s ten fifty-nine)

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Jaanus Jagomägi on Unsplash

 

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East of Java

East of Java

 

My first real taste of the day

Is bittersweet

I simply mean my morning cup of coffee

To which, yes, I add

Something sugary,

 

Which means I set it up

The contradiction and the paradox

First thing

First need

 

C L Couch

 

 

Coffee berries with insect bites.

Jyppe Quidores – Own work

 

1

Unrelative Truthing

Unrelative Truthing

 

Even in dim pre-dawn light

On a Sunday morning,

The colors are clear

Finally, it’s fall

The leaves are turning into glory

And should one think there is a subtext

About the beauty of all races

Well, that’s not really there

But, now I think of it,

Why not

There is beauty in all races

No need to place that truth under

Something else

 

Now, fall’s late arrival

Something of a pattern

Might also beg

The warming of the planet

Let’s go with that one, too

It’s not progress to have that understanding

(though another kind of progress is the cost)

It’s the kind of sense

The ancients have employed

 

Coffee’s ready

Time to get it

I am thankful

I hope your day is good

And for your neighbor

 

C L Couch

 

 

West Virginia Fall Colors

lanepws

(at) http://www.lanephotoworkshops.com/portfolio/landscapes/fall-colors/

 

0

Morning Dark

Morning Dark

 

morning dark

it’s longer now

and night arrives

earlier—the

longer time for

black sky to have

its way

 

and in equinox-

thinking, this is

just

 

for we should not

fear the dark,

since there is

dreaming there

 

C L Couch

6

Dawn-Calling

Dawn-Calling

 

Who calls dawn

 

One bird, two birds

I hope it’s at least two

 

No one should have

To call the new day

All alone

 

At such a time, there

Should be company

 

And, if it works out,

Friendship through

The morning

 

That’s how I’d like to

Start the day

With someone near

 

To know me now

When the day begins

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