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fall

Sleeper Awake

(x = space)

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Sleeper Awake

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It’s 69 degrees

(Fahrenheit)

At (twelve-oh-five, we say)

12:05

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Fall arrives

And hobbits,

The birthdays

Of the Bagginses

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New season

With an equinox

Autumnal

To complement

The vernal

By a half,

Half a year,

Half a world

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We tilt into another

And existentially

A new one

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We have not had

Today

Or this changing

Of the Earth

Around 11

Post-meridian

x

Here is the same season

As a new one,

New seconds

Newly breathed

Into hours

And an age

Collectively

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Spring to the south,

Autumn

To the north where

Where there

Might be dragons

In their lairs.

Then

We bring in cold air

And awaken them

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We think fall

Might be the readiness

For freezing,

Sleeping winter;

And yet

(like new school years

for young ones

and for teachers)

Here and now

The adventure,

The quest

Might begin

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C L Couch

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Photo by Hans Isaacson on Unsplash

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Mortal Timing

(x = space)

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Mortal Timing

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It’s cool today

Thank goodness

I am thankful

I guess I can’t haiku this

No artful three-line

Praise

Or only observation

Out of nature

Yet nature should be thanked

We are lucky in this hemisphere

Just now

North enough

And south enough

(ecumenically)

Praise fall’s invocation

Of bright colors

Praise the God

Who shows us grace

With autumn

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Someday

The seasons mesh

Their virtues celebrating

All together

How trees will bear fall colors

While serving new life below

As spring

And summer

Under winter’s cover

We don’t know

(maybe there will be quarters of

seasons’ perfection)

But it is heaven

And new Earth

And these miracles will work

Like clear gold

In the streets of

New Jerusalem

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C L Couch

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The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each made of a single pearl.  The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.

Revelation 21:21

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Photo by Steven Cordes on Unsplash

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This Autumn Morning

(x = space)

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This Autumn Morning

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Gray with

A patch

Of red

Inside black

Branches

Red leaves

Attached

Maybe until

A winter wind

Comes to

Take them

Through the

Air until the

Breath’s expired

Then gravity

Must have

Its way and

Like the roots

We can see

And-or touch

Must lie upon the

Earth

And inside

For a while

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C L Couch

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Joshua Tree National Park

Photo by Matt Artz on Unsplash

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Slight Season

(x = space)

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Slight Season

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The sun is out

I should be going to it

There might be chill

It might be fall

At last

Not too soon to winter, please,

Which is the trouble

With the seasons in-between

Their timing seems so fragile

When

Arriving

Surprising, when it seems

They stay a good, long while

Leaving the severities

To themselves

And their own time

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jana Shnipelson on Unsplash

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Look Now

(x = space)

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Look Now

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I pulled on the window shade

The old-fashioned kind

I got stuck with

Gray all around

I suspect another strange fall day

Too hot in the eastern USA

This year

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It takes a couple tugs

But without the absurd length

That it can get to,

The shade goes up

And it might be too hot

But the leaves that look at me

Inches from the glass

Are autumn first

Colors mixed with summer green

Red and orange, yellow

All say hi

(green sighs)

We are here

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It is the season, anyway

And I am thankful

Whose formality comes

Later on

With cornucopia

Thick tablecloths

And such

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And while there is no peace

There is small, sustaining

Joy

In nature’s

Hello in the season

Outside

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C L Couch

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Photo by eberhard 🖐 grossgasteiger on Unsplash

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Fifth Day

(x = space)

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Fifth Day

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It’s Friday

And we face the weekend

An invention that started with

Reform laws

For factories

I hope you have a grand time:

Play

Find a moment in which

To be grateful

For reformers

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If you are having fall

I hope it is the right kind for you

Colors

A degree of chill,

Wind that speaks

And, when not speaking,

Sings;

If it is spring for you

I hope you find new life

The right intensities

Of green and blue

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If there is a sabbath service for you

I hope you find God at home

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C L Couch

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Photo by Oliver Hihn on Unsplash

Germany

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Equinoxic

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Equinoxic

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Is it really in the sixties?

That is so nice

Today or tomorrow

Is the equinox

And fall will be official

We want it to be fall, I think

The leaves to turn

The air to be a challenge

Time for coats

And yellow schoolbuses

Easier to see

Take care

Autumn has its challenges

Practice looking out

For trick-or-treaters

First frost

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C L Couch

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in the northeast of the USA, northern hemisphere

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I looked at the temperature and said to myself the first two lines

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Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

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Spice

(x = space)

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Spice

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The flowers

They are ending, I suppose

The ones of summer,

While chrysanthemums

Are having their time outside,

This time

Their time

And we pause and pause

Maybe because it’s raining

Or it’s cold for the first

Time in a while

I’m speaking to where I live,

Which is in eastern Pennsylvania

In the middle of the

MidAtlantic, USA

Wherever you might be,

It’s fall up north

And spring down south where

The flowers that are dying

Here would rather be

So that their color

And their smoother shapes

Might go on,

Though I imagine in a relentless season

There would be end to

Flowers, anyway

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Here, the chrysanthemums

Shall have their way

For a while

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C L Couch

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Photo by Nadiya Ploschenko on Unsplash

Ukraine

today’s mood

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Contact

Contact

 

The markers of the season have

Arrived:

Cold rain, color in the leaves

 

Paradox in brilliance dying

 

It’s in our lore;

It’s why we conflagrate the phoenix

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Hamed Daram on Unsplash

Abadan, Iran

 

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