hap
(valueless until we add value)
what shall I say
it’s Wednesday of
the arc
day before a holiday in
this case
USA Thanksgiving
when we observe and also
ignore
the colonial experience
we celebrate
the Indians
misnamed
who kept the settlers alive
so
they could lose their land
and lives
push their identities to arid
places out west until
mineral wealth
pushed
them farther
fish to fertilize
corn a gift from the Americas
with
turkey
and pumpkins
and may I go back to say a word
in favor
of popcorn
boon to so many
watching
movies
black and white
the natives were in color
two groups as there must be
two groups
not
one nation-tribe
and yet they came together
hunger
and fear
righteousness
after
survival
and we have so many
mores now
to practice
they are idle
parades
in which practitioners aren’t
idle
football games for distraction
snacks
and later tryptophan
and
maybe
snacked and
drugged
the day will go easy
on gathered
drama
perturbations
and
then to plan
any adventures for tomorrow
when
we might rush the stores
predawn
c l couch
photo by The Cleveland Museum of Art on Unsplash—A Rooster and Turkey Fighting c. 1680 Melchior de Hondecoeter (Dutch, 1636–1695) Netherlands Oil on canvas John L. Severance Fund 1986.59 https://www.clevelandart.org/art/1986.59
(x = space)
x
x
God Help Us
x
God help us
Everyone
And God will
We only have to ask
And sometimes
Not that much
We call it grace
And miracle
Held and dispensed
By no one
But the Lord
x
So light a candle
Safely
Or do not
Really nothing is required
No tired rite
Or something new
For invocation
And our supplication
x
There is no order
Memorized
Say help into air
Or at the ground
Or leave it to the mind
A receptable
For meeting
x
God is here
God is there
God waits
On our interest
And our need
x
Ask
Receive
Try not
To fret the timing
There’s an answer
Every time
That serves
That aids
That loves
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Christophe Maertens on Unsplash
x
corn was a gift
you know
for those who landed
from those already here
x
maybe we could greet each wave
from ships
at borders
in this way
x
a generation
and a kind
welcoming the other to new worlds
as our own
x
(x = space)
x
x
Feast
x
Is there
More to share
It’s Monday
In the week of Thanksgiving
For the USA
Canada has had its day
Already
There are rituals
Old
And newly defined
Played out
We go for turkeys
Franklin’s hopeful emblem
For the nation
I imagine for its sustenance
In the wild
When we were in the wild
We go for other things
Sweet and tangy cranberries
Thank you
And football games
To keep the men away
If so
They should trade places
Every other year
Or everyone should cook and serve
And play
There’s something
To be thankful for
Many will learn to pray again
Then wait for the next
Time
x
Eat and drink
Some will serve the needful hungry
First
Or instead
How much is needed
After all
How easy to serve
Yet feasts are important
Here’s a feast
And at the table
There are families
And guests
And a good day
Somehow made by politicians
Owned by us
And how we satisfy
All day
x
C L Couch
x
x
Urban Gardening Locavore
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Good One
(in pandemic time)
x
Watch the game
Through the phone
Or tablet
Or computer
x
Eat with the group you know
And keep it small
A family parameter is fine
If not the number that
You’re used to
x
Eat
Laugh
Play games
Clean up
x
Pretty good, overall
Thanksgiving Day
Reborn in the USA
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Anastasiya Romanova on Unsplash
x
Anticipation
(in pandemic time)
x
A day of
Thanksgiving
Is a week or so
From now
x
The Canadians
Had theirs on
Traditional
Columbus Day
And my sister’s
Birthday
x
We could combine
The two (not
the birthday) and
Thank first people
For tying up our
Boats, once
We got here
And then have
A national apology
Day for what was
Done to them
Next and since
It’s going to be
A bitterer day,
Anyway
x
Maybe we should
Thank the thankless
For a change,
Which would add
Some sweetness
x
And bittersweet
Ain’t bad
x
There’s wisdom
In it, for it’s
A quality
Both positive
And tempered
x
A good
Thanksgiving,
USA, once we get
There and in
Anticipation
x
C L Couch
x
x
By Visitor7 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=27155416
Ketchup Bottles at Fullers Coffee Shop
x
(sorry, the image is especially enigmatic—a combination of the title, a song, and an advertisement)
x
Psalm 16
a song of (USA) Thanksgiving (Day)
The Canadians had their day already.
I wonder if that’s because they’re
more easily, readily thankful.
In the USA, there’s so much to
be thankful for. I grew up in
Pittsburgh, and I like returning
there. Pittsburghers tend to
speak their minds, and their
minds are good. (Their driving’s
better, too.)
I have family. The five of us with
spouses, children of the new
generation, and pets (old, new). We
are scattered, which is sad, though
in our ways we keep in touch.
Friends I have, a small circle. And
I have made it smaller. Not the
happier of moves. But the friends
I have I cherish. They are good
for me, so good. They circle out
in nearness, which is the sense of
those we know and how and when.
I live alone and often feel the
peace of that. (I first typed pace
for peace, and I enjoy that too.)
I sleep badly, which means I have
hours of the day to be awake
and doing such as this. Would
someone else put up with that?
Hannah, my cat of nineteen
years. She is gone now, and
eighteen years were pretty good.
Then she faded fast. Not bad,
all in all. She was the queen and
I her knave. She ruled in blessed
benevolence, scolding me for what
is apt within the catly-noble
mind (which means daily
reprimand for not mind-reading
every whim). Still good, good-humored
company. Now a loss, though better
she go first. She awaits me on the other
side, ready to scold me what else I
missed in mortal time.
Mostly. I have you. Lord, I
know you love me anyway and
always. You love me in darkness
and in light. I am perpetually
astounded. And, yes,
thankful for this, all this, the
plenty that you give.
Thank you, Lord—Love, me
clcouch123 
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