2 poems while thinking about Easter
Aslan again
was re-maned
once rising
with all wounds save mild scars
now
unremembered
new life
new joy
wanting to roar
and so roaring
and then playing
with
the children
on a hillside
where rolling
descending and ascending
make
sense
in mortality
again
(recalling that passage in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe)
green-grass Saturday
made of plastic
even though there’s cheer
in memory
said memory to find itself in corners
through
the coming year
once making beds
to dye the eggs with vinegar
hot water
everything is nestled
for a while
and
as of yet
no chocolate has appeared
though we are
ready for the hunt again
on Sunday
for the same eggs
now
we cannot find
and then the chocolate
and there will be photographs
appearing of the day
and
of the day again
then in pastels
off
to church
c l couch
photo by Birger Strahl on Unsplash
Francis and Me
(not unlike/not really like Ben and Me, book by Robert Lawson, film by Disney)
I’m too tired
Got up because
I was up
Got coffee for the ritual
And pleasure
From
The ritual
I’m writing
Though it’s gunk-like
Like old oil
That hasn’t yet been cleaned away
Nearly
Enough
From the machine
Replace the batteries
As well
Or something like
For charge
Get into it
But it’s a push
Against the hours I have lost
Again
Against pre-morning
Early-light
Fractal illumination
I ask
Of myself
As audience
While illumination
Of all kinds
Tries
To creep in
Over the factual sill
And the one
To
The mind
Over the parts
That sense
And I happen
Out of nerd-like interest (maybe)
Or a patriot’s dream
To think
About
Pre-dawn
Near a fort
On a ship
Neither so far away
(to ask)
How soon did he
How soon
Did Francis spy
The flag
Then write while on the ship
After uncertainty except
The fact of
(not a doorframe but)
A battle
Overnight
C L Couch
(starting at 4:30)
“The Fact of a Doorframe” is a poem by Adrienne Rich (title of book, too, “Selected Poems”)
Photo by Jamie Morrison on Unsplash
yesterday was Holocaust Remembrance Day, and so the following is for this day and any day we remember something larger than ourselves that still involves our responsibility in happiness or sadness to enact
day of remembrance
yesterday was for remembrance
each day is for remembrance
and recall
together
with poppies
or monuments of angles
the ceremonies we create
over what has happened
so we might remember
and not
as Santayana says
doom ourselves
to repetition
of the dire
and destructive
take it slowly on these days
don’t rush to something else
the prophet margin
will remain
in the margins
a call of justice
that is heard
might mediate
with all the other worldly matters
all our loves
the good things
the distracting things
that sometimes we must order
like new things
especially through
our days of remembrance
c l couch
photo by Pete Nuij on Unsplash
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