2 poems about the new season (more or less)
Bouncy
God
It’s yellow Friday
With blue and brown
On deck
It’s
Spring and time
Not for the metaphor this
Time but
To really
Play some ball
Training
Then the opening
We each can do this
Batter
You know
Up
And I’ve switched audience
Though aren’t you
Always there
(for
an excuse)
Forgive me
And allow me to say
Maybe
To everyone
About
Gospel of play
And did you plays as you ringed
And then rounded
Creation
Maybe
Keep us
Safe
In this new season
Knowing that our choices
Make the difference
Even if
And when
We could turn our will
Toward yours
A wheel
And a wheel within a wheel
But I was thinking baseball
Pitches
Running
And then
The coming home
Green
Workaday
And extraordinary-day
New
Season to you
And to you
Amen
Freedom Ring
The Liberty Bell is cracked
And there were more
Bells
At the time
Ringing freedom
While now we have
The broken bell
For show
And there is wisdom
In admiring the broken
Toward
Kintsugi perhaps
Or to leave in
Pieces
Sometimes for further lack of use
Except in small beholding
Or
When a sizable
Cast bell
To dream on ringing
To dream really large
Sometimes
C L Couch
Photo by Joe Richmond on Unsplash
Long Earth
Thinking
About day and night
In the spring surprise of
Noting
Blue light persisting
Layered
And
Dissolving in to dark
And yet the longer time
As Earth considers turning
Back
Leaning to favor
Days of planting in the northern
Half
While the southern part
Has winter
A cycle of
Waking
Hibernation
Still for a billion years
Two billions or so
Until a final pressing
To go away
To land upon another world
With the surprise
Discovery
Of its own planetary cycles
And its seasons become
Our own
C L Couch
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Outlook
It’s
Sun
And yellow on brown
For trees
While the sky is an ashy blue behind
I know it’s Lent
And maybe this is a somber
Spring day
Maybe a calling to
Remember this is what happens
After
Winter
After March’s lion
March’s lamb
Straightforward observations
With ingredients of
Folklore
Added
Even to the speaking of the sun
The day
To us
Unusual
After all
Like a little revolution
A little anthropomorphizing
Is a good thing
Which we’re gonna do
Anyway
Thinking of a sun that smiles
Looking for
The face
In the moon
Tonight
C L Couch
“I hold it that a little rebellion now and then is a good thing . . .”—Thomas Jefferson
Photo by JOSHUA COLEMAN on Unsplash
a few lines as if in part above the abbey
a few lines of nature
and of God
looking outside
nothing
grand to see
with no majestic sound
rather
the grandness and the majesty
are in the small networks
of the branches
dark tendrils
once the vessels of green leaves
then shall all be green again
after three months
when green
shall
smally
grandly
majestically
overwhelm impending gray
again
that is nature
and is God
the work
at least
in lines
of
seasons’ prophecy
c l couch
photo by Brussel Banda on Unsplash
On a Cold Easy December Day
By the way
I’m this brave
Before
The winter storms should come
Like in the moderating days
Of warmth
From spring to summer
I am appreciating
Even the end of fall
When
All pretty much
Has fallen
Covering
What is preparing to go deep
In hibernation
Soon
And now
Maybe in the midst of winter
With whatever’s fallen
Then
I can be brave as well
Even inside
White banks
Long columns of ice
Along the street
As I try to get by
And don’t
We all
In extreme heat
By correspondent measures
Opposite
The frozen time that should begin
Well
Any moment
Now
C L Couch
Photo by Will Turner on Unsplash
Hidden Ice
Hooker Lake, New Zealand
The Winter Mind
It’s late
Long shadows
Winter-coming ready
Longer
Sooner into darkness
Though the thing
Take
Just as long
As any other orbiting of
Earth
It is a winter mind
And winter body
And the
Spirit
We’d like to think
Ready
Always adaptable
But
There is
SAD
And something older
Something eldritch
In the residence
Of spirit
The reason for the bonfire
And the special words
The dancing
After
Knowing that our planet must
Turn the other way
For melting
Seeds
And more
Come spring
Don’t abrogate our lights
The gifts
Of artificial power
Any more than wood and oil
Have shown our way
At night
And yet
Remember we are
Evening people
Too
Affected by the twilight
As it ebbs
And flows
The seasons
Of our kind
And with so many
Sibling species of
The world
C L Couch
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
“delicate decision”
(https://leafandtwig.org/2024/04/14/delicate-decisions/)
to decide between
winter or spring
and
it must be spring
but what if
the decision goes the other way
what if
spring’s not ready
and winter coldness
might feel grand
a little longer
given quarters of the Earth
already turned
and hot
or maybe to rest a while longer
in the freeze
in caves
in trees
and beneath the ground
letting seeds build up
their inner strength
to shoot
and rise
through the crusts of soil
to find in time
the nurture
of the sky
so let the new
be moved on a little
maybe a month or so
a scandal to our calendars
though the big negotiations
shall go
between
the tilt of Earth
and the truculence
of nature here
that wants to wait
a while
c l couch
this verse, undulating for good or ill in form and content, is inspired by the post on 14 April 2024 of the excellent blog by Catherine Arcolio—“Leaf and Twig” that presents evocative photographs and text, both as expressions and comments about nature (thank you, Catherine)
photo by Jodie Righos on Unsplash
how do we do
what do I want
to say
I don’t know
I’m tired
and annoyed
and stressed
the weather person
says it’s
bright
(I can see that)
and also cold
(I can’t see that)
outside
I hear the sounds
and they’re all right
the bad ones
move along
drills
sometimes
inside orange lines
(should I check)
sometimes lasing
for some hours
and that
and they
must be all right
so I’m typing
but not arriving
to something like
something to say
to you
from
me
sorry
get some rest
get up later
move around
and do something good
for you
like writing
if an interest
and reading
certainly
for light and for
communication
until
telepathy
shall comfort all
and keep all
connected
and all this is advice
for you
or me
I implied that I was
searching
and maybe this is
something
some small advice
for both
not that that’s
required
I could simply set a scene
like the haiku
for the cherry
cheery blossoms
should be
awake
and dancing
on the branches
anytime
soon
now
C L Couch
photo by Carolina on Unsplash
more pamphleteering
(3 poems, rebel with a pause or as the cat might say a paws)
Flawed
There are days
When there are
Nothing
But flaws
Maybe the kind of
Flaws
That might be fixed
Or re-trained
Or re-adjusted
Somehow
Or they are flaws
The kind
That remain
About which there is
No hope of changing into
Something good
Or even
Little more
Than barely
Tolerable
The cracks in the walls
And maybe
The foundation
The leaks
In the roof
As well
With divots in the yard
And even cuteness
In the squirrels
Is mollified
By the way they overrun
The feeder
Set
You know
For birds
The wider spaces
Might be grand
The siding
And the brickwork
Nearly perfect
And all the paint inside
Looks
Pretty good
Though what we see
Is the crack
That happened because
Things that have been around
For a while
Develop lines
And sometimes
The lines
Widen
Not minimized
To their resemblance
Of a mischievous
Stream
Upon a map
You might say
Well
It’s all just attitude
Isn’t it
And I have to say
And maybe anyone whose
Flaws are
Evident
Must say
Nope
The flaws are there
They’re real
And they’re lasting
Although
You’re right
There is an attitude
Over
Which to consider more
And
Or course
How to deal with what there is
The flaws that threaten
Should be addressed
Do-it-yourself
(-myself)
And/or
(preferably and)
Done-by-others
To be fixed
Enough
For more than jazz
For life outside
The venue
In the sudden daylight
Too
Some lines
And cracks remain
Which is real
For they are real
Endurable
Even considerable signs
Of endurance
Even achievement
And attraction
As what is
Structure
Shall
Last longer
Attraction
If we understood
That certain flaws are fine
(beyond
fine lines)
And it’s all right
And even good
They last
As if to say
In an encounter
To oneself
This place does not have perfection
As agenda
This place
Is grand with age
This place is welcome
This place
Is home
Denizen
The word
Today
Like the old game
Is
What shall it be
Watermelon
Lamp
Radio
Nostalgia
Love
Intransigence
Toward love
Why don’t we love
Ennui
Fright
Movie
Safety
Home
And are we safe at home
(another game)
And
Well
It’s relative
Against
A dying planet
And those who away
Who
Looking in
Might say
This is
Such a resource
Such an opportunity
Why did they let it go
So badly
There are wars
And also there is
Nature
Aggravated
By themselves
To greater storms
And harsher seasons
So far from
Design
That yet is evident
Maybe we should take over
Maybe we could help them
Save themselves
From of course
Themselves
For we know how this goes
So it went with us
Before the next-to-last crisis
Set us on
The edge
And all we could do
Then
Was try to find a way
To widen the edge
And then
If we could
Build back from either side
Because there was
Our abyss
Of destruction
All around
And that’s it
Isn’t it
We survived
And got
To this place
Where we are here
Cleanly
And with confidence
Today
At home
And in our orbits
Far beyond
And we must leave
These to it
To their Earth
And come back in a while
Should there be
Some unity
And health in unity
To have a planet
Have a world
Wet with life
And creatures
Green
And blue again
As it seems now
But it is pushed
They push it
Their own world
Toward something like
The line
We knew so well
Grind
(for the first day of spring in these parts)
Now it’s a cold
Day
Because we’re into spring
Last week
It was warm
While winter breathed
Hot upon the leaves
And sleeping
Lawn
Beneath
Topsy-turvy
Then
In fact
He says
At noon
It will be colder
Coming days
Sigh
When to plant
When to turn
When
To work
To play
To dance
What should lie fallow
Really should
For variegated futures
In the land
Although
We need what’s planted
Every day
Not merely
Grocery-store expectation
Anymore (that
does not
recognize the seasons
when the berries
or the lettuce
might be ready)
but the need
To feed our animals
To weave our clothing
Out of wool
Even to work the leather
And best-guess
Nutrients
And timing
Year-round
Of course
To feed our children
On our farm
And in the city
And all over
In the wilderness
Made worse
(beyond appreciation
in and of itself)
By droughts
And wars
We’ve heard of
And it’s a guess
But I think it the way
We have them that
The cows
Need milking
Every day
And there’s that magic
In the harvest
(unreal)
That should happen every day
Releasing everything
We want
That we want
To believe
Is always
(anymore)
Fairly gathered in
A world of expectations
Fiercely specific
On a faded Earth
Running out of time
If
We’re not careful
And
We’re not careful
C L Couch
Photo by Yuri Malishenko on Unsplash
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