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thanksgiving

3 poems for summer solstice

(x = space)

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3 poems for summer solstice

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Merry July

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Solstice

It’s summer now

Summer weather smacks us

Here

Temps aiming for 90

I guess in Australia

New Zealand

New Guinea

Little America

Winter is begun

Throw logs on the fire

Sing winter carols

Withholding Christmas and

The other holidays

‘Til the start of summer

In December

Christmas in July

A custom mostly mercantile

In the north

Could be the real thing

With trees and

Were it high enough

Some snow

Ornaments and lights

Certainly

Merry Christmas in

Alice Springs

Wellington

Tierre del Fuego

On the Falklands

At the southern pole

Santa’s summer home

Like winter

x

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Intentions

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God, what shall I

Say to you?

I worship you

In contemporary ways

I’m sorry for sins

You have seen in me

And known for centuries

I thank you for your presence

Having made all good things

And the ways to deal

With the bad

I ask of you

To welcome home

Those who die

And heal those who live

Cure cancer

End war

Well, I can ask

x

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Siblinghood

x

It’s like science fiction

Slipping out of time

Our of normalcy

Eating meals on time

Cleaning on a schedule

Ingrained expectations

Instinctive, conditioned

Responses

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To fall outside of these

To live with fewer clothes

To hope for decent meals

In penury,

To dream of trips

But only travel like Thoreau

Walking to and from

The town

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Everything else happens

On the inside

How sad this is

At least how strange

But there’s a purpose

Those who fall outside

Will look back

And when not wistful

Will prophecy

In art

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C L Couch

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Saint John’s (Midsummer) Fire at Dragør Beach (Denmark)

XSimon, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53634435

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At the Table

(x = space)

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At the Table

x

This is Tuesday

I hope this is

Will be

Or has been

A good Tuesday for you

(or across the world

might have been will be)

Even splendid

You are entitled

One of nearly eight billion

People

Your choices, well, that’s

Up to you

And not a matter for

Anything not like a tribunal

Present

If you are a despot, stop it

If you are a lousy neighbor,

Be a better one

But while the sun is out

(and when the moon is out

and that bemusing time

of dusk or dawn)

Take in free breaths

Let them out with gladness

And, dare I say,

Thanksgiving

For sometimes it is an easy Earth

When and where it’s not

Good breathing’s still required

With assistance added,

When needed

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And, by the way,

Honey gets in everything

At table

I’m sure there are tricks

The bees know

Maybe through their knees

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C L Couch

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orange gradient fluid art

Photo by FLY:D on Unsplash

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To Pilgrim

(x = space)

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To Pilgrim

(at Thanksgiving, USA)

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Pilgrims

On Thanksgiving

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We make fun

Of their hats

And buckles

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They might as well

Have been a foreign

People to the

(rest of the)

Whites as all the

Indigenous to

The whites

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And they were:

They were a foreign

People

x

They carried faith

And dignity,

Faith in dignity,

To what all the western

Coastal, European

People called

A new world

x

Through stratagem

Or accident, they

Settled too far

North

x

They struggled;

They strove

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Everything was

Struggling and

Striving to them

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Moving, going

On their way

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For them, to be

A pilgrim was

An action

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On a journey

Neverending, ‘til

The end of this life

Start into another

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C L Couch

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Photo by Dhimas Widrayato on Unsplash

It was 22:39, I went out to get some fresh air after some coding session then I saw a big moon on the sky, so I grab my camera then go to open space to shot this picture. The photo was taken in Tangerang, Indonesia.

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Anticipation

Anticipation

(in pandemic time)

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A day of

Thanksgiving

Is a week or so

From now

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The Canadians

Had theirs on

Traditional

Columbus Day

And my sister’s

Birthday

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We could combine

The two (not

the birthday) and

Thank first people

For tying up our

Boats, once

We got here

And then have

A national apology

Day for what was

Done to them

Next and since

It’s going to be

A bitterer day,

Anyway

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Maybe we should

Thank the thankless

For a change,

Which would add

Some sweetness

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And bittersweet

Ain’t bad

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There’s wisdom

In it, for it’s

A quality

Both positive

And tempered

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A good

Thanksgiving,

USA, once we get

There and in

Anticipation

x

C L Couch

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By Visitor7 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=27155416

Ketchup Bottles at Fullers Coffee Shop

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(sorry, the image is especially enigmatic—a combination of the title, a song, and an advertisement)

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Toast

Toast

(lids on hot food for now)

 

I woke up with a cold

I don’t care

I have this hour

And a day that could go twenty-four

Or become an age

As in day of the dinosaur,

Which is a really long day

 

You woke up this day with what you have

I hope it’s good

And if it’s not,

I hope it gets good and even better

For the hardship

 

We are awake

We have today

There’s sunshine somewhere

And out there the stars are turning

Movement proves life

Be easy

Or be crazy

Have a thought for someone else

And what she’s going through

 

We’ll see each other soon

Dancing in the skies

The circle won’t be broken or

Truth made out of lies

 

Now thinking-reverie must pause

Because there’s food and drink somewhere

And labor must be easy for a time

I hope we find the feast

Thank the host

Thank the guest

Hang on, if we must

Go in, because we can

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Mark Cruz on Unsplash

New York, United States

 

What Do You Say, Dear?

What Do You Say, Dear?

 

Sometimes in weariness we wander

While we stay inside, trying to take in

The world about

 

How much sense we can make with

What immediate surrounds us

We don’t know,

Certainly

 

We can open a book of the paper

Or electric kind, and we should

 

Where do answer lie?

Like asking of the hills to bring our help

Or something in a psalm

 

We don’t need a tube (that

Kind of lumen, as I understand it)

We can read

We can listen, better

(though we listen to the reading words, I’m sure)

 

More directly,

We can have an understanding

With all atoms we encounter

We can be grateful

 

A moment of small noise in which

We utter some

Thanksgiving

And with an attitude re-enter everything

 

C L Couch

 

 

What Do You Say, Dear? is a delightful and wise book by Sesyle Joslin, illustrated by Maurice Sendak.

 

Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Unsplash

Chester, United Kingdom

 

Romeros

Romeros

(the caravan in Tijuana)

 

Pilgrims all

Seeking a thanksgiving

For food

For safety for the family

A chance to work

(work hard)

A chance not to hurt, sicken, and die

So easily

At home

 

Pilgrims for

Thanksgiving

Imagine that

 

They have come so far

Probably, we won’t respect that

What they went through to

Be so near

 

Will we let them in

 

From a land of light

Waiting in the dark

From a land in darkness

Waiting for the light

 

Will we let them in

Will we let us in

 

C L Couch

 

 

By IDS.photos from Tiverton, UK – Door to private chapel, Vicars Close, Wells, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=25739058

 

Borne in the USA

Borne in the USA

(Thanksgiving Day 2017)

 

Those who can, eat too much

Those who can’t are often fed as well

There are parades that

Honor stores and industry celebrities

Though most of our parades are

Done that way

 

A magazine editor wrote

President Lincoln

Suggesting a holiday—

This was during the war when a respite

And a time for thanks would welcome relief

To all the tragedy

FDR secured it for the nation

 

We watch football, formed when

Athletes from Canada comprised a new event

With Harvard students

Canada has Thanksgiving Day at a different

Time

I hope other cultures have it, too

Maybe you will tell me, and

 

In the mean time I’ll say thank you to you, mindful of

Respective situations

 

For you give me a reason

 

C L Couch

 

 

(photograph from Flickr)

 

Psalm 16, a song of (USA) Thanksgiving (Day)

Psalm 16
a song of (USA) Thanksgiving (Day)

The Canadians had their day already.
I wonder if that’s because they’re
more easily, readily thankful.

In the USA, there’s so much to
be thankful for. I grew up in
Pittsburgh, and I like returning
there. Pittsburghers tend to
speak their minds, and their
minds are good. (Their driving’s
better, too.)

I have family. The five of us with
spouses, children of the new
generation, and pets (old, new). We
are scattered, which is sad, though
in our ways we keep in touch.

Friends I have, a small circle. And
I have made it smaller. Not the
happier of moves. But the friends
I have I cherish. They are good
for me, so good. They circle out
in nearness, which is the sense of
those we know and how and when.

I live alone and often feel the
peace of that. (I first typed pace
for peace, and I enjoy that too.)
I sleep badly, which means I have
hours of the day to be awake
and doing such as this. Would
someone else put up with that?

Hannah, my cat of nineteen
years. She is gone now, and
eighteen years were pretty good.
Then she faded fast. Not bad,
all in all. She was the queen and
I her knave. She ruled in blessed
benevolence, scolding me for what
is apt within the catly-noble
mind (which means daily
reprimand for not mind-reading
every whim). Still good, good-humored
company. Now a loss, though better
she go first. She awaits me on the other
side, ready to scold me what else I
missed in mortal time.

Mostly. I have you. Lord, I
know you love me anyway and
always. You love me in darkness
and in light. I am perpetually
astounded. And, yes,

thankful for this, all this, the
plenty that you give.

Thank you, Lord—Love, me

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