Tennessee’s Bell Buckle and a child on Christmas day
an
orange
some
walnuts
could be
pecans
and I imagine looking toward a barn
and once the chores
to look in peace
special
that day
scrubby fields
maybe
snow-covered
house the way houses are in that
part of the region
and
the nation
in the standings
in the time
is there room
in the house
in the barn
over
the fields
for hope
for moving away should there be the slightest more
one year
and
having grown
to do so
c l couch
briefly about my mother who grew up as a child not of but in the Depression
photo by Markus Petritz on Unsplash
'round
I have to leave today
if only
for a while
like
his mother leaving for a walk
around the Hundred Acre Wood
and he asking before
would you like
me
to go with you with her replying
no
but when I return
greet me as if
I had been away
a long time
no mother or
another
to whom to say
that
to
or hear that from
though
needing to leave
also
to return
in a later hour
of this day
having gone around
c(hristopher robin) l couch
Christopher Milne tells the story of the walk and the question in The Enchanted Places. This Christopher better known as Christopher Robin. (And I nearly forgot mentioning that his name was how I got my own. Christopher, not Robin but for him, anyway, my mom really liking the stories.)
photograph by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash
2 poems about the day
Fish Fry
(check the shape of stanza'd, ichthus undulation)
Friday
Fry day
Fish fry day
At the Catholic church
For penance
I suppose
Though the is
So much
One can’t complain
Of abstemious devotion
And the money
Should go somewhere
Good
And we Protestants
Can enjoy that
Too
Should we think on it
While crunching into fish with
Whatever else
Is
Provided
Yay
Catholics
Thank you for
This weekend treat
You all
Have
A great weekend
Too
After all the cooking
(the worry over getting
burned
while frying)
And all the cleaning
That frankly
We did not
Have to do
Though when it’s our turn with
A rummage sale
We’ll clean up
Afterward
For you
Thirteen O’Phobia
Today is Friday
A thirteenth
Sorry to
Triskaidekaphobes
Watch out
Black cats
They’ll be avoiding you
Which now I think it
Might be the quite suitable
Arrangement
And ladders
Mirrors
Sidewalk
Cracks
Salt containers
All the things that make
This day less
Amenable
And it’s the number
Generally
As well
The lack of such in buildings
Even
Now
And what was it
Crucifixion on a Friday
Or the barbaric
Gory dissolution of the Templars
On a Friday
Thirteenth
Early in the fourteenth century
(1307
look
another thirteen)
And Judas killed himself
Maybe on that
Friday
Being the thirteenth disciple
(once removed)
In some lore
But for me
And maybe I should apologize
I often
Find
The day goes very well
Which might be
Determination
Or
Luck
Half-Irish luck
For my mother’s family
While on my father’s
Side
There are the English
Who most likely
Do not care
About the day and
Date
As long as the flag is flying
Somewhere in a
Time zone
Over Earth
C L Couch
(9/13/2024)
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
Matthias, Paul, Judas—who is the thirteenth disciple/Apostle? (Rhetorical question--depends on whose tradition's answering.)
(x = space)
x
x
Mom’s Day
x
When she was alive
And I had friends on campus
I got notes from her
From time to time
And a card on Mother’s Day
Sometimes for Father’s Day
She could get confused
She was a cat
Who when sick
Or when we were moving
I brought to my office
To let her sleep under the desk
Or rub my face
When I was working
As was her way
x
And to make friends of peers
Students
Even the cleaning staff
Who were friendly people
So was she
She couldn’t be a mother
But she let me
From time to time
Be a mother
(also a father, keeper, friend, target)
And sent me notes and cards
For Mom’s Day
And other reasons
When I was on campus
And had friends there
While she was a good friend
A cat-child
In all places
x
x
happy Mom’s Day to all moms
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Valeria Zoncoll on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
In My Father’s Now-and-Then Kitchen
(and backyard)
x
My father could cook many things
Well, six things
The rest were disasters
Like shipwrecks on rocks
On waiting shores
x
He could make—combine,
Stir, apply, bake—apple pie
He taught me how to have
Cheddar cheese with that
x
He could make blackberry cobbler
Blackberries, maybe, because of
Growing up
In Olympia
Where there were
Berry trees and bushes in abundance
Real crust (back to the cobbler)
Made from many ingredients
The right amount of sweet and salt
To savor
x
He could make bean soup
Ham and bone kept from another meal
Beans soaked for days
It seems
He might have made the cornbread
That came with it
Maybe my mom made that
x
Have I got to six?
Well, he could grill adept
If maybe nothing challenging
The usual suburban fare
Meat and vegetables
I’m a plebe
I like hamburgers
I was satisfied
x
My mother cooked everything else
Too bad you can’t taste
Her corned beef with cabbage
Carrots and potatoes
With the cornbread
(Southern)
That she made
x
I can’t taste it anymore
For many years
Except to remember
I’ve found nothing close to hers
In waking time,
Since
Sigh
x
What else my father cooked
Was awful
(shapeless shapes
on plates)
He was the only one
To eat those things
He made
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Daniel Gamez on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Horde
x
Today is my mother’s birthday
She would be in her nineties, now
She died in her fifties
Cancer got her
Got inside my father, too
Is inside my brother
x
I could swear, but calling it
A bastard doesn’t matter
Cancer doesn’t care
It simply comes to cells and changes
Them so that they’re not good
Anymore
Like turning faithful into infidels
Except, again, cancer isn’t interested
x
As far as we know
It has no soul
It simply ruins everything
And we can’t cure it yet
Though there are treatments
x
Hard, difficult,
Life-changing treatments
Not like quinine (vitamin C) for scurvy
Not like the shots
That kept and keep
Polio and small pox away
Cancer treatments are harsh and
Guarantee nothing
The cancer might not go away
It might go away
And then come back
Survivors have success stories
But we are so far from
Eradication
x
We should include a clause in every
Contract, every negotiation
Domestic, international
A commitment to take part
In eliminating
Cancer
With ongoing maintenance,
A best and last campaign
Into whatever hell
Is fit for plagues
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
x
(x = over)
x
x
Dream Over
x
I dreamed
About my brother
Last night
Then my sister
And my mother
Who was sick
x
I tried to get ready
Asked my sibs to help
They would
(they did)
I tried to fix things up
As best I could
Then went to work
Where I was testy
With the people
There
x
Dream over
I woke up
And feel tense
Old long since
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by thamara prada on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Modranicht
x
Maybe I need a break
Go somewhere
Look at lights that others
Have put up
Phantom merrymaking
On my part
No, wait, they were put up
For me and others like me
To go by
To gaze at from afar
Appreciate the rainbow lights
Against the snow,
If snow,
Against the dark
Of night
Of loneliness
Of season’s night
Of season’s loneliness
That say, we’re here
And some of us
Are here for you
x
C L Couch
x
x
Modranicht, Night of the Mothers (a Yule celebration, now Christmas Eve)
x
Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Partial Recall
x
How many things I’ve missed
In the last few days
The Lunar New Year
Valentine’s
The birthday of my mother
She died thirty-eight years ago
Shrove Tuesday
Ash Wednesday
Diagnoses take their toll
x
Today the rover Perseverance
Lands on Mars
I should see and hear that
And all the other days
Will have gone by
Love in the time of plague
To contemplate while waiting
In her office
x
We go on
We sigh, we breathe
We go somewhere
Where there is no breath
Unless we bring it with us
Then we craft it
Inside something like
New wineskins
x
C L Couch
(2/18/2021)
x
x
Photo by Lucas Myers on Unsplash
x
clcouch123 
Recent Comments