(x = space)
x
x
Snow Bunnies
x
And on a wintry day
Dust bunnies come to play
They like the extra morning
Light
That shows the dust to play in,
Right
And should a human passing by
They know where to fly
For them, the winter is THE season
We have to clean—they
Have no reason!
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C L Couch
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another entry in the dust bunny saga
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x
Camouflage
Photo by Atharva Tulsi on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Holidazing
x
It’s a tarnish day outside
But I hope you have
A good day
You deserve it
For weathering in every way
The season
(in Australia, it goes to
the other way)
You are being careful, I am sure
With tasks and news
What needs doing
What can wait
And silence in between
When you might
Enjoy the stillness
Like untouched snow
On a hill
Before the sledding noise
Takes over,
Which like Currier and Ives
Will bear
Its own bliss
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C L Couch
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x
(I hope the message on the sign is civil)
x
(x = space)
x
x
Looks
x
Pale sky
As if in compromise
To give late-winter earth
A chance to show itself
Turning slowly
Into spring
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash
Blooming saffrons in the mountains.
x
(x = space)
x
x
White Light
x
It’s all right
I wish it had more yellow
As it is,
It glares
But since I got some sleep
It doesn’t hurt to look at
Maybe the blue and yellow
Are muted in
Winter’s last gasp
The white light a tribute
To what was
x
What was
A mild winter, more or less,
With snowstorms
Every now and then
That pounded elsewhere
Worse than what
We got,
Which I’m sorry
Selfishly was fine
White snow on the ground
White light in the sky
Too much
Too much for a claustrophobe
Too much for me
Maybe too much for you
If you live at all
Like me
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Caleb George on Unsplash
Deer Herd on a Winter’s Day
x
(x = space)
x
x
Easy Snow
x
I might have gotten
In my car, not looking
At three inches’
Newfallen snow
Then got out again
Once I knew the source
Of the sudden darkness
(were it day)
These spits of snow
Have been the normal
For a while
Late winter?
Early spring?
x
The groundhog is famous for
Inaccuracy,
Though the fairs are fun
In Punxsutawney
And who trusts a pampered
Creature to tell the weather,
Anyway?
We’d do better to
Look at the sides of wild trees
For direction
And the thickness of the fur
On the denizens
Therein
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C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Babette Landmesser on Unsplash
Sun shines through winter trees on beautiful snowy ground.
x
(x = space)
x
x
After the Blood Test
x
The kind that requires
A fast
x
I didn’t take my pills,
Either
Or had water
x
I waited for a while
But this was appointed
x
They should take me
And they did
x
I leave with less
Than I came in with
x
I face the day outside,
Later afternoon
x
I wander if the person
Who had miles to go
Felt tired,
Making the desire
To stop a temptation?
x
I get in the car
Hear the tires pressing
On the snow
As I head out
x
Turn the wheel
To point myself
Down one hill
Across some water
Up the other side
x
The sky gets dark
As the miles to go
Are done,
But now I know
x
I don’t know for sure
The measure of the distance
For results
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Byron Johnson on Unsplash
Great Smoky Mountains, United States
x
(x = space)
x
x
Snow Overnight
(the forecast)
x
Snow in the dark
Except where under
Artificial lights,
Maybe like renegades
Outside the windows
Of our homes
Or business locales
x
Over the runway
Through trees
Sleeping gardens
Flying around steeples
It’s there
It might go well
To turn off the lights
Go outside
I have to recommend
In numbers
x
But let them strike our flesh
Faces,
Wrists between our gloves
And sleeves
x
Small hits, the kind that
Most of us can take
With the cold
In thirties Fahrenheit,
Knowing that heat awaits
Inside
After the dance
Or anything to learn
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Robert Katzki on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Signing Late Winter
x
The sky is blue
As an observer,
A romantic,
Or a child might say
At last
And with a sigh:
It’s been white
Or gray for a while
x
A lithe tree branch
Dances against the window
I can’t hear it for
The distance,
Though I’m sure there’s
Scraping
x
Asking to come in
Or better yet
Inviting me
For company
To go out
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by dorota dylka on Unsplash
Blossom
x
(x = space)
x
x
The Winter’s Hermit
x
Sigh,
In a hole I live
It’s not a riddle
Not a mortal mystery
x
Around me
It is white and brown and gray,
Yellow where the animals
Show weakness
I am one of them
x
There is no cheer in
What I do,
As I intend there
Shouldn’t be
I wake up in prayer
And close the day
With it
x
And inside darkness
I might sleep
Or listen for the rustling
Of other animals
The Holy Spirit
Passing by
x
Or an ancient demon
Haunting the loss of
Following and home
An age ago
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash
x
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