safety patrol
I’m not sure if I ever
got
the white sash or silver
badge
and I’m not sure the office ever
worked
to make us
safer
crossing the driveway at
the edge
of
the school
but I wanted these
‘cause they
were
cool
the folk
that is
who wore them
sometimes I clapped erasers outside
into
the air
you know
and not against the red bricks
of
the walls
but there was no cachet
in that
no creeping up the gradients
of
cool
like the rising numbers
on the hopscotch
that
I tried
sometimes
but for lack of balance
rarely
like
the cool quantity
ever won
c l couch
photo by Joshua Sukoff on Unsplash
My Friend from School, Steve
(add in your friend)
My best friend
Locally
Was Steve
And Steve was Black
Mainly
Though
He was my friend
He brought me in
For a while
Even to his house
His home
And he told me how difficult
It was
To buy that house
In rural Pennsylvania
Where selling to a Black
Man had been
Difficult
Though he had money
And persisted
He let my cat
Stay with him
Too
She liked to run around
The house
And try to dominate
Queenly
The feral cats outside
Near the barn
Steve
Had two lovely children
Long grown now
I haven’t seen them
In a long while
Though I imagine
They are lovely
Still
Inside and outside
Hard-working
Like their father
Also loving life
Like their father
Steve was ill with things
A combination
Or a last thing
Took him at the end
That should have gone
Differently
He should have had years
Of relative health
And joy on Earth
Even though
No doubt
He’s doing better
Where he is
We were friends
At school
Where we worked
His office was a friendly place
There were rows
And stacks
Of things
To appreciate
Mostly
It was that they were illumined
Embodied with his presence
Sharing wisdom
Sharing life
A resting place
Even
For others
For me
I miss him
Even sharply
Every day
He had a way
I miss his presence
He was easy to be with
Whatever the mood
He was my friend
I miss him
Every day
He had a way
C L Couch
I write this because it’s nearly the end of Black History Month. I can think of Black inventors and I do. And so many Blacks I’ve known with all the talents, attitudes, and contributions. But my famous friend for this month is Steve. He was a teacher. He was skilled. He was welcoming. He had a home and had a life. He is my professional and personal Black history. He should have had more time on Earth. He once called me his brother, and I have felt that strongly ever since. He was mine. He was my friend. I miss him sharply every day.
Photo by Dylann Hendricks | 딜란 on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Covenant-Keeping
x
We grieve
That is the right response
x
It happens right away
And is ongoing
x
Mostly it’s the loss
And who’d have thought
x
Regardless
Of the news
x
It should happen
On a school day?
x
While we still think
Of school days
x
The days when
Sun and light should happen
x
On the playground
Or we stay inside
x
When tension in the classroom
Over subjects is enough
x
How did we make the trade
Of shoes on tile
x
For the reports
Of guns instead?
x
For now it is the loss
We don’t want
x
To imagine
Even though there are
x
Those who must
See and hear
x
And every other sense
Invest
x
In the lifting
And the carrying away
x
Even then,
Through the earthly horror
x
There is what’s inside
Now gone
x
To grieve the most
Shock, fear, crashing grief
x
Anger and activity
And needful inactivity
x
Maybe someday about
The keeping and the letting go
x
C L Couch
x
x
x
Dark Peony
Photo by Gayatri Malhotra on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Two-Day Turn
x
Today is the day
After Labor Day
And the start of school
As God intended
The god of summer
And the god of learning
Negotiate
And merge
And tilt the seasons
So that the picnic on the holiday
Is sweet and sweeter
With only a bit
Like a zest in soup or cake
Of disappointment
x
And with the bittersweet
We sleep inside the hours
Of the change
Waking up to fall term
With excitement
Now with the zest
Of jitters
x
So the seasons’ wizened-wise divinities allow
So I think
They prefer
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Joshua J. Cotten on Unsplash x
(x = space)
x
x
Doctor William Kennedy
(professor of theatre)
x
Lord, love a duck
It’s an expression or the title
Of a show
My roommate and I
Used to pass it back and forth
On birthdays
Happy Birthday, Lord Luvaduck
A USA way to have a title
x
This was in school
He did well
I did well
I hated it
But liked him
His strength and creativity
His creativity
Intelligent as he was tall
I’m not sure what that means
Except that he was six-and-a-half
Feet tall
And maybe a little more
I liked his parents, too
And his brother
Also very smart
x
I wish we’d stayed in touch
And we did, a little
We wrote Happy Birthday to each other
And I tried to say something clever
(he was clever)
Then and now and then
I tried
To let him know I cared
x
He had
A good, steady career
And was much-loved at his workplace
It said so on the website
x
We got old
He got sick
He died
A couple of years ago
There was no one to tell me
I had to find out
Recently
I suppose in a world
In which electrons carry messages
More so than people speaking
Out loud,
This must happen
x
He went by Bill
I miss him
I can so easily
See him across the desk
Smart man
Faithful
He liked Dad’s root beer
We watched ‘70s television
We met onstage
Roommating was his idea
Good idea
x
C L Couch
x
x
“Lord love a duck!” is an expression of astonishment and relief; also the title of a novel, said novel used to make a feature film
[I used electrons to find this out]
x
Photo by Manos Gkikas on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Robb Elementary School, After
x
Irony of welcome
We know this
You are welcome now
Not your guns
Not your murderous intent
You may have a troubled mind
And still come in
There are counselors
In school and life
But really you should come here
For a reason
That not only fits the mission
But also the constituency
x
Parents of our learners
Patrons of
Our special programs
Library volunteers
Or other signed-up, cleared
Helpers
We want our school
To be good
We want to welcome you
Bienvenidos
x
C L Couch
x
Outside, underneath the name Robb Elementary School, there is a greeting, Bienvenidos. Welcome to our school.
x
x
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Untimely
x
I want to sense
The world around me
I suppose most of us do
Even if the world
Has been
An awful place
From time to time
x
It is our home
It’s what we have
And should we leave
Before it’s time
Our absence will be
Missed
By angels in the cosmos
x
There will be keening
As the rings of heaven
Move against
Each other
In a way
They’re not supposed to
x
C L Couch
x
for all the children killed in schools
x
x
Kids hopscotch game in playground.
Photo by Eric Tompkins on Unsplash
x
Day 181
It’s Friday afternoon
Day 180’s passing
And so the children should be
Out of school for summer
Last rides in yellow buses
For a while
They can populate the stores
For a time
And visit in each residence
Pets should be happier
For the company
And lemonade or something like
Becomes a commodity
I don’t mean to say
It’s all sugary
Some will need work,
Too many will go hungry
There will be
Pain from separations of all kinds
But some will take trips
They will enjoy
And though not expressed,
Wear a new kind of gratitude
As a child,
My summers weren’t idyllic
But I couldn’t help from time to time
First relief, then
Reveling in freedom
C L Couch
Photo by Luiz Guimaraes on Unsplash
Western Movie Theatre in Oxford, Ohio
There was a summer when
I felt especially alone
I was at school
Everyone else was gone
So I went to the movies
Two dollars for admission
For two dollars, I saw The Last Starfighter
Then on another night, Highlander
Music by Queen
Sci-fi reigned, I guess
Taking me somewhere I wasn’t,
Which at the time was really
Needful like coal
For an empty furnace
It’s no longer there
The theatre or the summer
I got an X from the marquee
Before everything shut down
C L Couch
By Michael Gäbler, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31083077
Rodgers Theatre in Poplar Bluff in Missouri. This Art Deco-style theater opened in 1949.
clcouch123 
Recent Comments