stones

graves say
(because they do)

hear them
while
we look at them and
hear
a message
as
we might wonder if they like the rows
or would they rather follow
contours
helter-skelter
around
trees
or as combined
through dells and over knolls
and gently curved
plus
with a wish for wildness
yet
they say at any time
so then
maybe we hear
and for certain days
articulate
a familied story from one loved or
waving narratives from
all the stones

c l couch

for Memorial Day

photo by Gabe Pierce on Unsplash

In the USA, Memorial Day is the last Monday in May (so this year 26); the day is a formal time for remembrance, mourning, and gratitude.

(x = space)

How They Carry the Good News

I’m not sure what I’ll

Write today,

But there will be something

Something about me

And you

God and the whole world,

Which we sing is in

God’s hands

I suppose an earthquake

Might mean

That something is slipping through

The fingers,

A flood might mean

Too many tears

The birds might carry news

Carried by the wind,

Another agency

They hear the talking

In the trees

And what stones say

Between buildings

Some shining,

Some in ruins

I guess there are words

From all over Earth

While the moon

Sings in response

And the stars

Oscillate their notes as well

For any

Who are listening

Let those who hear,

May—not

With ears

But with supernal apparatus

That repression

Or suppression might affect

But is with us, still

Too deep, perhaps

Though there is

A law of freedom

That

I’ve heard about

C L Couch

“How They Carried the Good News from Ghent to Aix” is a poem by Robert Browning.

Photo by Christine Benton on Unsplash

At a gymkhana show in Warner Springs. These two make a formidable duo, galloping across the arena and then coming to a sliding stop to make a sharp turn around a pole (out of range to the left). They take my breath away.