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Toll

(x = space)

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Toll

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I started to write

Because it was twelve thousand

Now it’s more than twenty

There would be little left

Of my small town

Which is considering

The numbers only

Imagine people

I don’t want to

Imagine myself there

Would be easier

Because I would be doing something

And it would be awful

And my life would break

Like the earth

Beneath the nations

That might come back

Or we will fill it

Not with the dead

But with material

For building and for living

Apologies from government are fine

Maybe we could stop the war

Among the factions

And the other wars

In the region

To reassemble

Reknit the people

Not as Babel

Fallen

But as the New Jerusalem

A promise

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jazmin Quaynor on Unsplash

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The Earth Is Not Round

(x = space)

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The Earth Is Not  Round

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Four thousand dead

In Turkey and in Syria

From earthquake

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Do we understand

How many?

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We could say

We could lost more in the Towers,

But do we understand

What that means

Save for being there?

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And if there,

How far could we see?

How far would our eyes

And ears

And hands—our

Spirits allow?

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The bodies piled here,

Now there:

Who understands?

And yet it happens,

All this happens—neither

Is done forever

Or for good

(that is a play on words)

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We need to know we can

Step back—that

It is all right, the stepping back

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As for disasters

We go in,

The brave go in,

Bags and boxes

Literal, awful

And sad treatments

That assuage

And do not heal

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Still, many will be saved

And perhaps there is a plan

For the next time

To forestall the next time:

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Real homes and towns,

Walls that bounce

And have a chance

To remain

And keep the mortal lives

Inside

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I don’t have these perspectives,

Though I have come

To certain places

After:

Sometimes generations

Yet in need of fixing

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Mostly, though,

The blood and gore

Have been my own

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I do worse with yours

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C L Couch

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Turkey and Syria earthquake: race to find survivors as death toll passes 6,000 and hundreds of thousands seek shelter – latest

The Guardian via MSN, 11 minutes ago (12:24 EDT)

https://www.msn.com/en-gb/news/world/turkey-and-syria-earthquake-race-to-find-survivors-as-hundreds-of-thousands-seek-shelter-and-death-toll-passes-5000-latest/ar-AA17bdhM

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(I wrote this morning after sleeping with the news last night)

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Photo by Parker Johnson on Unsplash

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two poems for Thanksgiving

(x = space)

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two poems for Thanksgiving

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The Godmother

(Sarah Josepha Buell Hale and Thanksgiving)

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In the USA

Other nations have

Their days

It was Hale

An editor

Who lobbied

Above Washington’s

Claim as a foundation

That

The nation needed

Officially

Thanksgiving

Hale wrote to Lincoln

Other Presidents

Before

That this day was

Needed for a nation

Even in the

Horrible paradox of war

To say thank you

To whomever we should

Be saying thank you

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Lincoln conceded

Gave a proclamation

That would not be set

For many years

Long after Hale’s

Life on Earth

Was done

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A first Republican

Then a long-serving Democrat

(who liked new deals)

Sealed the deal

And so we have it

Fourth Thursday

In the ninth Roman month,

November

To you and me

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The Day We Have

(on Thanksgiving)

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Football and turkey

Then more football

Stuffing and cranberries

Maybe ham

Or roast beef

Or sandwiches from

The many places

Selling sandwiches

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I suppose there will be

Beer and wine

(beer before wine is fine)

Water

Juice

Soft drinks

People ‘round the table

Between quarters

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If turkey,

Then turkey sandwiches

(little mayo,

cranberry sauce)

Before the day is done

With

More sustenance

Kept inside the box

For tomorrow

And tomorrow and tomorrow

Since there’s too much

Lucky us

Who have too much

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C L Couch

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Photo by Morvanic Lee on Unsplash

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Thank you!

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