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The Golden Tree

The Golden Tree

 

There’s a golden tree outside

I’m not sure why

It isn’t autumn (late April),

No time for anything to turn

Maybe sunlight is passing

Through half-leaves left

From winter,

A batch that somehow clutched

Though the colder seasons

 

I don’t know, and in

A good way I don’t care

It is a patch of gold I see

First thing on looking through

The slats of mini-blinds

(don’t care for mini-blinds),

A gift of gold for no reason other than

I happen to look outside

First thing,

Catching rays through

Angles of the buildings,

Lighting up what otherwise has

Been a sullen street

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Simon Harmer on Unsplash

 

5

Tree of Life

Tree of Life

 

The soul must be amazing

Some say it’s like a bird

And why not

 

I don’t mean a matter for debate

I mean the spirit that’s inside us

That leaves us when

We can bear no more

 

Where it catches next, I do not know

Branches in a tree

What has it for keeping

 

I think it is somewhere

I guess it might be doctrine

And so for argument

To say it owns eternal

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Kushagra Kevat on Unsplash

 

2

Prescribe Contemplation

Prescribe Contemplation

 

Forgive me

For a fat mind

And soul leaden

With lethargy

Crowding out the angels

Pressing leaves of better notions

From a wisdom tree

I’d do so much better

Reading these even if I can’t

Hear heaven’s language

While living low to

Ground

Unearned wings

Plus siren’s wax all

Impeding taller clarity

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by veeterzy on Unsplash

 

0

Fantasia

Fantasia

 

1

I dreamed a dream last night

In which my jacket or some such

Kept getting caught in thorns

I’d get free and then right away, it seemed,

Get caught up again

I don’t know how many times this happened

I was helped at least once by someone

Else, and someone said

To be kind

That thorns are like that

Then the dream went

Where dreams go

 

2

I was looking through the porch screens

This morning to whatever was outside

Everything was still—I don’t think

It ever was so still

And then under a tree, while still on

The tree, I saw some branches moving

Everything above was quiet

But some branches below, as if to be mischievous

Were circling ‘round

I saw one branch was twirling

Maybe there were squirrels on the branches

Though I didn’t see them

The dancing carried on for a while

And didn’t actually stop

 

It was that the entire tree, many stories

High, was moving, too

I guess the wind picked up

And maybe on those branches there were squirrels

Chipmunks, grinnies maybe

(as I’ve heard someone call them)

I’m not sure an explanation lessens

Magic

And really all I was saw were leaves dancing as

If to a flute

With one branch twirling

 

 

3

 

I was driving into town and saw

A billboard I’d not seen before

Announcing something medical, maybe

An urgency for testing

 

I could see the word BLOOD in all-caps

And also see that that it had been torn off

At the bottom, many times

As if something were clawing

Or something offering a review

And rejection of the word

 

As if in protest

As if in need

 

Blood for blood

I’ve heard of it

I’m not stupid

I don’t know what it means

 

C L Couch

 

 

Akazienstachel (eventuell Robinia pseudoacacia?), Standort Nähe Waldfriedhof in Leverkusen-Schlebusch, Landschaftsschutzgebiet „Unteres Dhünntal“.

TipFox – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=49029195

 

grinny – Urban Dictionary

https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=grinny

The Pennsylvania, Ohio, or West Virginia term for a chipmunk.

 

0

Man Bites Dog

Man Bites Dog

(that’s news)

 

Somewhere it’s been said

That news isn’t dog-bites-man but

When it’s

Man bites dog

 

This morning police came

With a heavy knock on my door

It was loud, I was asleep

So everything happened fast and fuzzy

A muscled officer, the kind

I want when on my side,

Told me urgently and kindly

That a tree was about to fall on my car

I guess we had a storm last night,

Which I did not hear

(sometimes I take a pill)

 

I pulled on jeans and left

Pausing I guess because we had to

For some official information

To pass from me to him

Outside it’s mid-morning, gray and

Dim with rainfall, lights off of

Firefighting vehicles not really changing things

So much

There was my car

My hobbit car

Tall but narrow, close to the ground

I had taken my keys (where

was my license?) and knew enough

To start the car and move it forward

 

Now there’s buzz-sawing for the tree

Though I hear nothing for the moment

(I’m nothing like a gawker and have been

inside), so maybe

It’s done

And with the tree

Our being in the local news for Sunday morning

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

 

0

The Cypress Trees out Back

The Cypress Trees out Back

 

They stand tall and spare

Branches at the top all by themselves

Like leafy crowns

Bearing the responsibility without

The retinue,

Royal reinforcements

 

The tree that was squat and enormous

Is gone

Blown apart by wind and rain

And all weather-fury

 

Tell me how the slender cypress

Still rise from the earth

When the broader, low-to-ground

Was taken

I don’t know, but I think

Maybe the taller trees were

Much, much better at bending

Without breaking

 

C L Couch

 

 

Kevmin – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7571467

A branch of fossilized Glyptostrobus species needles. Eocene, 49.5 myo; Klondike Mountain Formation, Republic, Washington, USA. Stonerose Interpretive Center specimen # [sic]

 

0

Trees

Trees

(for an October prompt)

 

Tolkien liked trees

Robin Hood, too;

Tinkerbell and Tiger Lily,

I imagine,

Providing shelter

And playing fields

For lost boys

 

I like trees

 

Two of these peaked

High like towers from

The wide suburban plain

Of the backyard,

 

Splindly reaching toward

A clouded sky on

A Pittsburgh summer day

 

There was wind

At night, and upon the

Morning in the yard

One tree had fallen

 

Large across the lawn,

Tall on the ground

Sibling standing over

As if to demonstrate their

Name,

Weeping willow

 

For many days

I had climbed into the

Guard now dying,

Onto a lumbered platform

That my father built

 

That lay square among

Round branches

Inside uprooted, plodding

Blocks

Of grass

 

First time for me

With something monstrous

So close, so wrong

 

C L Couch

9

Tree Kind

Tree Kind

I fell from one
Once and again
And in the breath
I struggled to take
Back again

I still called you
Friend

I cannot make flesh
That has its own
Or invent a spirit
When already imbued

The tree breathes
Out its own

2

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