(x = space)
x
x
Nosh
x
Tea time
Tee time
Take a break
Let someone else
Do something,
Even if you have to pay
A little for it
x
A moment of vacay
As they say
Small return
On the investment
On so much living
So far,
Giving and trying
To get it right
x
Enjoy the moment
Then get back to work
A little easier
x
C L Couch
x
x
Food Stack Collection
Photo by Nico Smit on Unsplash
RiverCity Christian Church (Hobart), North Hobart, Australia
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(x = space)
x
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2 songs
x
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Song of Innocence
x
If innocence
Means free from guilt
Well, that’s really
Not enough
Innocence must be
Something on its own,
Not the absence
Of anything
Something desirable
A sense of peace
Of grace that we can
Walk with through
The day
x
Substance
Not a reflection or
Wishful thinking
Something that knows
The world, the score
And chooses innocence
Knowing,
Even skeptical or cynical
Strong innocence
Elastic
Durable
That knows the score
Not absence of guilt
The born-with quality
Is fine
But the knowing quality
Is better
x
x
Song of Experience
x
There’s so little
That I’ve done
Enough to hurt some people
To have been used
By people, too
x
Here I am
So tired,
Breathing through
A microphone
A torch song
Emanating
Is that all there is?
x
But it isn’t
I think there’s more
More sufficiency
More grace
More life
x
And if it seems I’m whining
Or whistling through
My teeth
The saddest tune
Well, I’ve been
Around
Some
With so much more
I’ve never known
x
And yet I think
In splinters,
Having this and wanting that
Wishing I’d done that
Wishing I hadn’t
It’s a maddening calculation
At the board
On this side of the gate
x
I hope
The tally’s adequate
Or maybe we could
Toss the numbers
Into the moving water
Dividing worlds
x
x
C L Couch
x
x
Hope Valley, Peak District, UK
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(x = space)
x
x
Place Setting
x
Monday, Monday
Now the song is in my head
I see a cityscape
Microsoft has placed on the computer
There are no people to be seen
But they must be there
Taken at sunrise
While many are asleep
(the photo, not the people
though one never knows)
The television drones
The coffee murmurs,
And it’s mainly done
And I sit cross-legged
In obeisance
And thanksgiving
For the time I have to write
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Grant Durr on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Waking
The backs of my front teeth
x
That I ground in my sleep
Skin tags
The iffy vision when I needed
Clarity
My ingrown or overgrown
Toenails
White hair (dark again)
The perils of left-handedness
In a right-handed, mortal world
x
Fears resolved
All the fear
That drove
The body and the brain
x
The soul that speaks
At last
To say, I knew you were there
Thank you for the journey home
To end at last
To start
x
C L Couch
x
x
Watchmaker’s Junkyard
Photo by Heather Zabriskie on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Beneath Us
x
If God looks down
Then God should look up
Through the ground
Through all the loose dirt
In the garden
Through mountaintops
Or valleys,
Through all the fractured
Places we have made
x
God looks up through
Everything
We’re planting
x
C L Couch
x
x
A mother teaching her child how to plant a tree.
#greenlegacyethiopia #pmgreenlegacychallenge
Photo by Eyoel Kahssay on Unsplash
@eyoel_kahssay_photographer
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(x = space)
x
x
The Gifter
x
Something brief and fragile
Like the low candle
Ready to touch the plate,
Run out of life
Of thread and wax to burn
x
Who says “brief candle,”
Hamlet or Macbeth?
x
Both ready for an end,
Relinquished from the missions
Set upon by ghosts and witches
Daggers and blood
And other apparitions
x
That like the dagger
Blood on hands
In fact, all apparitions
x
Might be of the mind,
Modern interpretation
Of medieval magic
x
A gift of time in time
The gifter having only one
For whom the limitations
Of one time can
Never, never, never, never, never
Be enough
x
C L Couch
x
x
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.
x
Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
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x
red light
Photo by Maeghan Smulders on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Half a Building Gone
(Surfside, Florida)
x
Half a building gone
It seems,
Unreal
x
I mean, how do we
Take it in?
x
High-rise exposure—the
Condos look
Like cells,
Like empty egg cartons
Many stories high
x
The back that stands
Looks brown;
The open part looks
Silver,
Though I imagine
The effect is the light
Of day
And camera resolution
x
How many died?
How many live?
x
Already a pack appears
Around a microphone,
Mouthing
Not enough details
Although with
Many assurances
x
Maybe that’s good
x
Maybe it symbolizes
There should not
Be panic
But that the best advice
Is to sit
Or stand around
x
While the recues
Work on,
Heroes
x
When the experts
Do their jobs
That they do well
x
Stand by
For more information,
More assurances
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Dan Russo on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Provision
(from Psalm 23)
x
Still waters
But not stagnant
There is movement
Of the Earth
And provision by
Earth’s Spirit
x
The saints
And other essences
Provide gentle
And fulfilling currents
And sponsor peace
Beneath, above
Where water moves
And air
And all good things
For that we might rest
Beside the water
And sometimes go in
For cleanliness
Or fun
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Mathias P.R. Reding on Unsplash
x
(x = space)
x
x
Anything We Give Each Other
x
What shall I give of
Myself today?
Many skin cells,
Loose strands of hair,
Carbon dioxide
Naturally
x
Thoughts as I write
Or should I talk
With anyone;
Or will a few drop down
Onto the page
Made of cells
And electrons
From me
Or the machine?
x
And we will each give
Of each one
Exchange
Like inhale for exhale,
As close as
Sharing across
The boundaries
Allows inside the rings
Of a mortally fixed
Universe
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Pavel Neznanov on Unsplash
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clcouch123 
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