I talk you talk we'll talk



The Tell

(x = space)



The Tell


Another dark day

Good for hiding dust

No doubt the motes are flying, still

Informing the dust bunnies

Where to warren

Why not dust cats or

Dust crocodiles, I do not know

But we may delight

In invisible inhabitants,

All the same

The pixies that our cultures tell us

Do and don’t exist

The magic inside

Each of our stories, especially

Once shared


Pull up some chairs, the four of us

Let’s play some cards

And, please, let’s talk

It isn’t tourney play, you know

Let’s show something of

Ourselves besides

The tells

We don’t think we have


C L Couch



photo by The New York Public Library on Unsplash

playing cards in a bar-room near Reserve, Louisiana


Laid Up

(x = space)



Laid Up


There are stories

There are stories

I’d like to hear one story more

It need not be fantastic

Save for telling of the human will

In wisdom or in folly

In virtue or in vanity


What I’m saying is

Make it a human story

Though we might truck with gods,

It seems most days it’s only us

Our gods so far away

Perhaps not to hear,

Maybe not to care

Certainly not

Mortal evidence discloses

To attend our

Perilous half-moments


It isn’t this way

God doesn’t have an unmoving face

But tell it to the storm

That seems to bear God’s enmity

In visage

And the promise of

A curse upon our gentler feelings

God is there,

But in the curse of human will

Must relegate our drama

Mostly to ourselves,

According to the action and the lore

The machinery of God

Last act upon the stage



But I’m sorry,

You weren’t asking for

A negative apology

And I was asking for a story


C L Couch



Photo by Olesia Misty on Unsplash


The Tell

The Tell


In the future, should we have it

We might gather into upper rooms

Keepers of technology

With those of bread

To tell a story of

What was lost, was kept

Not forgetting that we write

New chapters in

Our saga


Rising, falling passages like

Exploration of an ocean

Something like discovery

Reconquest when we call for it

Removing home


There is a center with

A monument to keeping

We gave away so much

Forsaking clarity

We held too closely, crushed it

Everything that was a gift

Finding we had no real talent in

Adding to creation

When there could have been alliances


Finally, nothing’s lost

If it must change again

And we with it

We’ll have what we have

In keeping up with prophecy

Fields we didn’t have to fight. for

Nature in benevolence to share


Partnership with

The ground at last,

The sea and all its colonies

We have a place, if regulated

By our betters whom we knew

And would not recognize

And the better us

In time for staying

And for leaving


C L Couch



Photo by Touann Gatouillat Vergos on Unsplash

Lake Louise, AB, Canada

On the ice. Instagram :


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