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Sunday Matinee

Sun on Sunday

(x = space)

x

x

Sun on Sunday

x

It’s dim outside

And raining

I hear wet tires

x

A gloomy day

I do not mind

The Addams genes at play,

I suppose,

The kind that make

A lark of dark days

x

I’m a day into

The new shot

Feels like the flu shot

And every vaccine that

I’ve had since

Childhood

The site is sore

x

I don’t mean to comment

I want to respect

The courtesies of others

That are challenged

Only in

Contagious situations,

Where they make

The issues grim

x

Like guns, I guess

We know what we know

And I might be wrong

x

But let’s not make it politics

But practicalities

There is an epidemic

I’ve lost people to it,

Which gives me added rights

To nothing

But my sadness

X

C L Couch

x

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Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

x

Sunday Matinee

Sunday Matinee

 

A deep sigh is a good thing

Unplanned

It takes regret

Folds it into wings and lets it go

Not that it will leave

For good but

Might fly out of grasp

Maybe out of mind before

It re-alights

And I have to take it back

 

Exhalation causes other things

To leave

Molecules we’d rather do without

Maybe some toxic atoms

Elements of life that will work better

Somewhere else

Lead and mercury

Irradiated particles that come from

Life too near a glowing factory

These days

 

It’s all right

Nothing much more dangerous than

When the smoke rolled out

From Pittsburgh to

Its suburbs

Generations’ mischief

Doesn’t seem to change

 

Like parents to campsites, we should leave

The world a better place for

Children

We gave up on that

I’m not sure why

 

C L Couch

 

 

“Paper Plane” by Xavier Ríos

La fabrica de nubes – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=68404545

 

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