Restocking

(x = space)

x

x

Restocking

x

Mid-afternoon is a good time

For grocery shopping

The pharmacists are more relaxed

More people say hello,

Sweetly apologize for guiding

Carts congenially in

Each other’s way

There’s someone close by

With whom to grieve

Products that are missing

And gripe with cordiality

To wonder what is next

For reduction if not elimination

Now, many of the shoppers have white hair

So might be moving slowly, anyway

But are the elderly polite?

Do they have to be,

Is there a law?

Rather it’s relief, I think

Knowing that the bellicose

Have already been or

Will go on later

But we can trust in these

Then there’s the way

The elderly feel deeply

That comes with age

To buffer and affirm

With civility

x

In the parking lot,

Someone going in

Asked me if I were well

I said Good and you?

He said good,

Which sounds about right

To add some good to goods

Going out, the errantry

Going in

x

C L Couch

x

x

Fruit Display in Supermarket

Photo by gemma on Unsplash

Stillwater, OK, USA

x

Introductions

(x = space)

x

x

Introductions

x

Snow on my small town in

The MidAtlantic of

The USA,

Nothing dramatic—

x

It falls and stays

On quiet places

Such as grass

And parked cars,

While on the things that

Sponsor movement

There is only wetness,

Dark and clean:

x

On streets and sidewalks,

Moving cars,

And such

x

From the waist up,

It seems November

x

Today we’re met

With winter

(here and now)

Not in discontent,

A week before it’s due by

The saint’s calendar

x

We should take it

A decency

In an indecent year

x

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Aditya Vyas on Unsplash

x

Bread and Circuses

Bread and Circuses
(after a debate in 2016)

I know I’m not the only one
He yells into the microphone
Dismissing anyone he’s talking to
Sometimes with a literal wave

He wears too-long neon ties
And cannot carry a moment of
Dignity, let alone civility
Has he ever been polite a
Day in his life?

Yet he’s our front-runner
Why? Because he’s got us
Paying for it, and we’re buying
Him, his shtick, his cant

He reaches the mad part of us
(“Mad” in both ways)
He’s catharsis when he’s gone

But we’re acting as if
We want to elect him to stay

Psalm 24, a song of in-between

Psalm 24
a song of in-between

What do we do on an in-between
Day? How might we please
You, Lord, on this kind of day?

If we do small things—speak
More softly and with civility
To those we know and those
Whom we encounter;

If we see the grey wash of
Sky and appreciate that it
Is not a sky of harsher conflict;

If we enjoy the colors, textures
That we have (even awash) and
Simple meals within our means

To have three times—post-dawn,
At midday, and again in twilight;

If we choose to look at harmony
And listen to the view—if

We accomplish these diminutive
Tasks, maybe without thinking,
Might we still please you? We

Do hope so and so we pledge,
Even if all around us is
An indifferent age