Montage
(well, a little one)
[haiku]
a blossomed morning
so many beautiful things
Juneteenth celebrates
Time Like
An ever-rolling stream
That
If we’re walking
We cannot step in
Twice
The same experience
Same water
But a new thing
Every time
So said
The pre-Socratic
For a thing
To teach
A lesson in
Immutability
And that there is none
While the water
Rolls
And we approach it
For whatever reason
Not for
The same thing
Every time
Change is natural
Therefore
Whether by the
Evolution water
We prepare
To swim
Or hand up our lyres
We might know
And like the health
Of a source
That’s moving
And meaning
Altogether
Change
With unchange
C L Couch
(Heraclitus and a hymn and a psalm and, you know, hopefully some inspiration)
Photo by Conscious Design on Unsplash
Forest River & Waterfall
shall we gather
photograph of one who stands different
(flash fiction challenge--the photograph reacted to is at Melissa's site, link below)
she’d like to talk
I think
she has things to say
and has invested in earth colors
and a visible presence
in a crowd
inside a city
who might keep her from talking?
well
she’s surrounded by black forms
hoods
perhaps hijabs like hers
(though hers is kindly brown)
and on the other side
black uniforms
of police
who also wear
visors hard to see through
and though we cannot see them
there must be weapons
somewhere
she has no actual platform
for her platform
there is a sign close by
she might be holding it
ironically
it says
SILENCE IS VIOLENCE
because
well
it is
silence is violence
if the silence is words
frightened
or (otherwise) brutalized
away from utterance
out of consideration
for fear of weaponry
arrest
and isolation
which would
once again
be silence
and this is a message
to the rest
that keeping silent
is through indifference
or only taciturn
approval
a kind of violence
in and of itself
we let it happen
let the wrong things happen
or keep
the right words
the protest words
the revealing words
get out
it’s like the leave to vote
and then
not bothering
infantilizing values
of democracy
her mouth is covered
I don’t know if
from cultural requirement
protection
from infection
or to illustrate her point
she is not tall
which is to say
everyone is taller
all around her
though she (or whoever)
holds the sign high
higher than everyone
to make her point
and maybe find
an invitation
to speak out
from up higher
sometime
she is not subjugated
yet
she’s there
she’s standing
and the sign is standing
not to mention
that the line
of her suit jacket
sends a message
of some fashion
something lined
through razored words
through silence
after all
the eyes are windows
clearly open
though the message
of a moment
might need more
some exchange
some blinking
we could get
from being there
but she needs to talk
everyone there
everyone here
needs to hear
and heed
what she has to say
the need is ours
outside the frame
to find her
and the source of words
and more
in principle
and action
to take away
C L Couch
(for) Melissa’s Flash Fiction Challenge #249
https://melissalemay.wordpress.com/2024/01/01/melissas-fandango-flash-fiction-challenge-249/
(tag #FFFC)
Photo by Priscilla Gyamfi on Unsplash
Chalk writing on the street near the George Floyd memorial in Minneapolis. "Together we will change the world."
Do You See Me Now?
I was a cat in Moscow
A photographer liked me, I guess
My manner, my similarity,
My distinctness of
Western cats
So at the fair in 1963, he (it was a he)
Clicked away
(Like my paws on pavement)
And I am here for you
Now
Meow
C L Couch
Photo declassified from ’63 Moscow Fair.
A Free Writing Prompt for You: What makes you grateful? How do you say, “Thanks”?
from Jacki K
response and illustration
Is that free writing or freewriting? I’ll probably respond to both. And with. Okay, I start.
Finding something lost makes me feel grateful. And I say thanks. To hear good news from family makes me feel grateful, too.
Longer time on earth—and I like being here, by the way—means loss. Someone dying is not about me, but I can’t help but take it personally. I think we’re supposed to, actually. After all, after death the issues are for those us remaining.
With losses that are severe—yes, loss of life but also loss or lessening of health and means and prospects—the small things to be thankful for mean more. I mean, I suppose losses in life could lead to bitterness, though as a lifestyle I try to move myself away from that. Maybe when I’m old and all alone, I’ll give in.
So lost keys, then. And that one piece of paper with information on it that I need. Sleeping a number of hours without obvious break. A day of color, whatever the season. Which would include a cardinal on the snow. Something new and interesting I see when I drive by. A new-to-me old building to admire or a community announcement that shows the town alive. Remembering to have grabbed exactly what I needed on my way outside the door.
There are many things. Imagine yours.
I do say thank-you and perform small courtesies in kind. Whatever the reaction is matters, though not so much. The joy is in the giving. And so is thankfulness. Small things to be thankful for are gifts and courtesies. I’m a better person when I know these and acknowledge them.
Aren’t we better people for saying and receiving thanks? Giving or receiving? Both? You’re welcome. And thank you.
C L Couch
for the image, kennethkeiferphotography.zenfolio.com (from Google Images)
clcouch123 
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