seasoned time
I wish I had a normal
life
and wish I didn’t
have
for in the odd things there is interest
like spice in the soup that I’d
just as
soon be drinking
on a Sunday night with MidAtlantic
cold outside
with frank
golden light inside
and
have these hours before Monday
though mostly to have them
on their own
honest love
flavored normally
eccentric
so consume
and in divine arrangement
mortally
so give
coda
and regarding Monday
could we not
unfrantically anticipate an enticement
in
the hours
leading to as well as when
the new ones tomorrow might
arrive
c l couch
photo by fuseviews on Unsplash
golden late-sun tree
Earth regardless tilts away
climate change stalls fall
c l couch
(next I’ll be writing about how cold it’s gotten)
photo by Conor Luddy on Unsplash
what succeeds
words fail
though
for good or ill
they
are what we have
I’m not sure what the language
is
for impulse
though I know we act
and maybe later
find
the words
and what do we think but
maybe nothing
or
perhaps
the saving words we
have because
there
are a few
c l couch
photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash
(I’m sorry, I rely on words that sometimes have two meanings and I mean both, which can go hard in translation; here I mean “succeeds” as to achieve and also as what follows)
church gone
as in I went
to church today
was
driving
and
drove in because I know
the church is pretty
and probably
for something
more
saw cars pull and people going
inside
so I went in
as well
hoping I could
I don’t know
make my way by gestures
forgotten
words
half-remembered
but
worship
anyway
the church was lit as much by
morning light
I think
a stark shadow rendering
in silhouette
the gigantic cross of
Jesus
I listened to the homily
about the special
day
today
of guardian angels
of angels
everywhere
I’m sure
we gently waved to each other
maybe
a legacy of the pandemic
and we smiled
I did not take part in
the Eucharist feast
since
it was twenty years or more since
confession
(I
don’t
think I would have been caught
out)
we left
I left
got in the car
resuming my drive
more
or less
to nowhere
into a world that matters
where
and when
(yesterday)
my
niece is
sick with cancer
c l couch
photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
two weeks in
there is
sun
and no new color
no brightness after fading into fall
the irony of
seasons that they meld
and then they live
set
on their own
c l couch
photo by Alexander Lunyov on Unsplash
the time in Michigan
sigh
to cry
too much
too much
too
many
one is too many
or one building stick
torched
and a denomination wounded
as all on
Earth
should feel and think the hits
the wounds
the losses
of
God-made
(all God-made)
people
and
these faithful people
who
have heaven
and yet so many broken spirits
left behind
tragic quandary
of why
what
if
and without doubt
in all the world
what now
and should we care statistically
and maybe afterward
now
is the time
to mourn
to keen
to bury and to name
for remembrance
to apologize
and
pledge that as a species
we do better
how about asking
God make
us
better
even in challenge of perhaps
a lasting affirmation of
our free-owned
will
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At least four people were killed and eight injured when a gunman in a pickup truck smashed through the doors of a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints chapel in [Grand Blanc Township,] Michigan during a Sunday service attended by hundreds, opened fire and set the building ablaze. Police shot and killed the suspect, authorities said.
The attack occurred at about 10:25 a.m. The gunman got out of the four-door pickup with two American flags in the truck and started shooting, Police Chief William Renye told reporters. He apparently used gas to start the fire and also had explosive devices but it wasn’t clear if he used them, said James Dier of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.
Authorities identified the shooter as Thomas Jacob Sanford, 40, of the neighboring small town of Burton. The FBI is leading the investigation and considered it an “act of targeted violence,” said Ruben Coleman, a special agent in charge for the bureau.
Yahoo! News
photo by Eugene Golovesov on Unsplash
how far
(away)
I love you
I heard on jazz radio
several minutes ago
and
not knowing better
I said
I love you
to the air
while I was driving
I know to whom
I said it
and then wondered how much
and then frankly how much
received
as I drove by churches
Sunday morning
which
I was sure
however wrongly
would not accept me
so how far love
how far until we stretch it thin to break
even
though we say infinity
some would say only so far
as duty is not broken
then
watch out
some would say the width and length
of
a cross
which as a metaphor
and truth
might not be fixed
what are the dimensions of grace
anyway
dispensed by God
and not by
us
and not
to leave the question
but
to leave the question I drove on
to
nowhere in particular
c l couch
photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash
red and green on tree
late for fall or early Yule
auguring from leaves
c l couch
photo by Chinnu Indrakumar on Unsplash
(leaves are for illustrative purpose, of course—what I mean to get at is that I don’t know the plant or if its leaves change for fall or it’s another process)
camp song
peace
give I to you
not as the world gives
give I to you
well
that’s how I learned it
I recall the high tones of campers
singing
behind the fire
while I and mine were
on the other side
and it was night
and so
we sang across the flames
while
dark
received peripherally
an antiphon
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(I couldn’t find the song as I searched on line, though I imagine somewhere in cyberspace the song is cited, if not sung)
photo by Josh Campbell on Unsplash
clcouch123 
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