clcouch123

(x = space)

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Don’t Listen

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I’m sad is all

And maybe I may say

Who wouldn’t be

It’s raining

There are feet of snow

Out west

And that’s dangerous

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In the south

There were tornados in the night

Can you imagine?

Too many don’t have to

You wouldn’t see it

You hear the train

If you can hear

The sounds of what you know

Changed into splinters

Horrifying

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You might go dark

Deeper in, that is

Or might be missed

(tornados leap this way)

Or under things

That fell

But living

Needing to be found

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And a factory nearby

Exploded of all things

Also last night

And people inside

Sorry

Some were killed

Others hurt

And people missing

While searchers search

Press conferences are held

Because

They have to be

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Another factory

Not so far off

Went this way

Some days ago

I don’t think

It’s a conspiracy

But these destructive

And frightening

Severities

Must be taken seriously

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Last night’s inferno

Costing

Families

The ones torn up

For good

And those in the community

Losing, too

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You see,

The people in this factory

Made candy

Of all things

In fact for decades

And should have been

With all the chocolate offerings

Just in time for Easter

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Now associations

Snow-driven winter

Romantic Southern nights

Anticipation of confections

Well,

The fears will have to go somewhere

Coping mechanisms

Mechanized

(as in ready to go)

Let hope

Like grace doctrinally

Abound

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So I’m sad

Maybe I don’t know how

To take it in

To breathe vicarious

In addition to my

Own intake

For, well,

My own

Somewhat depressed

I deal in this

And have had counseling

And medication

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The day’s been gray

With rain

Not life-threatening here

Persistent

Cold and dull

Is all

And enervating

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I thought about errands

And such

Then thought better

Thinking it better

Or maybe better would have been

To go out

Get wet

Do something

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C L Couch

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Photo by Peter Jan Rijpkema on Unsplash

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