Open in Case of Regrets
Oh
It’s Friday
And a Valentine’s
And loneliness
The watchword of the day
Because
We culturally
Say so
Which is too bad since
Each day is a gift of twenty-four
With
Sixty minutes each
Which is one thousand four hundred
Forty for
A number that
Numerically
Is
Something of a gift to have
For each of us
And if you’re sad today
For whatever reason
Then
I’m sorry
By way of fractured sympathy
Since I don’t know you well enough
For whole
And
Still
I wish you well
And maybe you have those
Near
To whom
To reach
And there should be trust
To say
How are you
And may I tell you
How I am
C L Couch
(next year replace the Friday with I don’t know a Saturday I should think)
Photo by Linus Belanger on Unsplash
an eccentric consideration of whose day with bows and arrows
Valentine’s
in a little while
(there
you have a free reminder)
named
and erstwhile remembered
for a saint
with followers
and they sent notes of
love
that was encouragement
against prison also
persecution
generally
wherever the believers might have lived
or might have had
to hide
we’ve added pink and lace
cut flowers
with
of course
the chocolate
at least for those not allergic to
chocolate or
flowers
or lace or pink
for whom we learn
what else might delight
and so
acquire and present these
and I guess
it has become a day
for two
and not for more
and not for
one
and
sorry
we put pressure on ourselves
at any number
that might have started
in some places with
peers and
cards
and crafted mailboxes
in classes
and maybe there was a rule
that everyone
give
everyone a greeting
and how socially
disastrously
all that might have gone
and
then
we grew into
the grown-up versions
of all that
so that might I aske
simplicity
anew
to pinkly and lacily approve
however many
shall
have the day and night
of Valentine’s
I’m sure
the eponymous hagiographic presence
would be
pleased
as there might be something to
the ministry
of saints
for each
and two
and three of more
and
all of us
have a good
pink or unpink
day
n.b.
and oh
yes
we let Cupid in
the imp from ancient Grecian
lore
to shoot
two hearts with love
and so
eccentrically
and maybe in reverse-order show
that
love hurts
so
my
we might the candy
after all
n.b. 2
and we know
or may
know
in that it’s
open for us that
God loves us
anyway
through our wisdoms
and our follies
even more than Cupid
who is
mischief
after all
c l couch
photo by Shayna Douglas on Unsplash
long season
(means lengthen)
day of ash
season of thought
also season of service
and of
sacrifice
though all seasons behoove
today
ash on foreheads
ash made
from last year’s palms
and might look like a cross
for a while
then those who say
sorry
you have dirt
on your face
I thought you’d want
to know
c l couch
photo by Randy Laybourne on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Strange Day
(14 February)
x
Charlie Brown
Gets an empty mailbox
We read the messages
On candy hearts
My mother made
A pink cake, heart-shaped
There were notes of
Love sent between the
Martyr and the followers
Such a strange day
We’ve made of this
Not bad
Sometimes bittersweet
Mostly strange
Red roses
That mean passion
Champagne, perhaps
Chateaubriand or other
Famous dish
Made for two
I forgot, Cupid
And the little round angels
Firing arrows into people
That don’t hurt unless
You don’t want
To feel that way
Strange day
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by jabez Samuel on Unsplash
x
Valentine’s is Tuesday. A day whose origin is in sacrifice and martyrdom. In the pesky chapter of Ephesians, it’s how the role of husbands in marriage is described. Like the role of Jesus to the church, his bride and for whom he gave his life. The saint exchanged messages of love from his prison cell with his followers outside. (Who knows but someone might have been in jail with him.) Red is not for romance but for the color of the final cause. Enjoy the greeting cards—I will—and chocolate. And flowers for an augur of spring in the north. But there are higher things to think of, among them how we love this day. And to the next.
C L Couch
clcouch123 
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