Walking through the house
Was strange: your
House that burned, now
Beams and cross-beams,
In neutral shades of earth
An appliance here or there;
For all the blackened parts
And where textures are
Impressed with soot and
The house we see
Rising from the ground
Save for a generation’s
Life, now endowed only
By memory as legacy,
Which I think you saw
Upon the bones of
Your remembered home,
As we all walked through
I use C L Couch when writing formally because it is a version of my name that's genderless. And, frankly, easier for handwriting--I have a severe writer's cramp. In conversation, I go by Christopher, having been named for the boy who had the poly bear and finally being (achieving) fine with that.
I use small Xes all the time because WordPress won't let me cut and paste the text from my program page to this one. (Grrrrrr.)
I am a career educator, semi-retired due to disability. I live in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania (USA).
The main photographs at this site (of the road, of me) were crafted by photographer and my friend Debra Danielson. A variety of her work is available for appreciation at
Thank you, lookers, hearers.--Christopher
June 26, 2016 at 5:31 am
This really took me in places full of melancholia and sooted memories. The imagery is superb.
Hope you and yours are very well my friend.
June 26, 2016 at 7:09 pm
I visited with my friends in their rented house, next door as it turns out from their home. They will literally watch over reconstruction. They showed me through the burned-out and mostly cleared-out parts. (Which prompted the poem.) They are safe though tried and tired.
Thank you for superb. That is a joy to hear. I trust you and yours continue safely. Your friend, Christopher
June 26, 2016 at 8:24 pm
Well described poem. You can really picture the destruction. It makes me think of the people in Ft.Mac, many who gave gone home now, to homes that are much like what you describe. Great to know your friends could rebuild!
June 26, 2016 at 8:54 pm
As it turns out, my friends have good insurance. They didn’t know how good ’til now. I’m relieved the folk in Ft. Mac can go home, though dreadfully sorry for what many will have to face. I couldn’t help but write about this kind of destruction, I guess. Thank you for your affirmation.
June 28, 2016 at 7:12 am
eerie and melancholic, this piece is visually and emotionally vivid, brother. I am hoping for a great restart for your dear friend, brother. 🙂
June 29, 2016 at 3:34 pm
So far, so good. All humans and animals are together in a rented house. The home is being rebuilt. Sister, thanks for your caring and concern!
June 30, 2016 at 1:52 am
I would take it as a good news? 🙂 You are welcome, brother!
June 30, 2016 at 5:06 am
Yes, sister, this is good news. They have a place to live while their house is re-constructed. Their pets are with them again. After the danger and damage from the fire, this is all so much better. Next week my friends will be going to a family reunion–and I’ll be watching after the cats!