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A Million Now

(x = space)



A Million Now


Two and a half years

A million dead

Shall we count?

We should have time

While counting out the days

For boosters

Should we be privileged

For boosters


If they were like stars

Then there would be no question

Everyone would want them

Like the bread

That goes with circuses

Is New York still giving money

For a shot?


People I know are gone

Because of COVID

It’s hard to take in

I might be dense

How could I know a million

Twenty times a number counted

For the city some miles away

Whose rutted streets

For the moment

Have no wagons for the dead

Or another absurdity in

A Python moment


Try to count

To a million

Try to consider millions of

The dead or fleeing

Thanks to war

Go ahead, combine the numbers

Since the same hate’s

At work

Every time


There is liberty

In abnegation

Deny the medicine

Turn oneself into

The other side of counting


C L Couch



1 Million COVID-19 Deaths in the United States


Photo by Susann Schuster on Unsplash



(x = space)





There was an equinox

The sky returned to balance

While our Earth began to slide

The other way

Into spring here

And winter to the south


We call them snowbirds,

The folk who go to Florida

In January

I’m not sure about the opposite

Those who might want

To travel farther south for winter,

Maybe call them penguins

Puffer people



We wish for a good season

Much to plant

On planet Earth

To hope for green:

Seeds to break

Blades to rise

Life to harvest

Healthy crops of health


C L Couch



Photo by KT on Unsplash

Satay by the Bay, Singapore

Observed this Yellow Bittern for a good 20 minutes.  It was trying to find the most comfortable position for its morning food hunt.  Photo was taken from the lotus pond at Gardens by the Bay, Singapore.


Stopwatch for Genesis

Stopwatch for Genesis

(1 January 2020)


How do Arabs count the new year

How do Jews

How does China of

A billion tens of fingers?

How do those who know only seasons,

Who count days as

One traversal of the sun,

Then of the moon?

A change of feeling in the year

To favor birth or harvest?

It would be fair of all of them

To ask of us

The people of the nanosecond

Why there is counting and, once-measured,

Presumption to ownership


How does God who with better reason

Owns the days count them?

We guess a lot about this

A day

A day that is an age

I don’t think God can be bound

Held by our computing

Any more than the bars of an abacus

Should make a cage

Or calculators calibrated to electrocute

(maybe watch out for

servers serving)


There is even scandal in census-taking

For the king rather than the nation

It’s in the Chronicles and Samuels

People dying for

The autocrat’s close ticking


Now’s a fine and healthy time for remembering

God’s of chaos, too

And if we want, if we will

We can be held ourselves

(by God or ourselves)

To keep it either way


C L Couch



Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

hide and seek


Iran Hostages in 1980

Iran Hostages in 1980

(52, 444)


I remember the Iran hostages

Held there for so many days

I remember the rescue fail

Husks of aircraft on the desert floor

And I could only imagine

(And I did)

About the crews and soldiers that

Had been carried inside

It was the start of Nightline on ABC

Where we got reports

Each day (each night)

And always a figure graphically depicted that

To me

Looked like someone mummified in black and white

And the number grew each day

Without better resolution


I was reminded of

The Viet Cong kill count each night given

On the evening news

And wondering why

The GI count was always higher


C L Couch


yellow ribbon tree


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