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winter

Thoughts on Solstices

(x = space)

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Thoughts on Solstices

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I don’t know why the dying year

Is appealing

Maybe because we know

That dying isn’t death

And we contemplate the process

And be glad when the reversal

Starts

Like knowing that our skin cells die

Then are replaced

It is a cycle we can contemplate

As well

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The Earth will start to turn

To favor night,

Which will take six months or so

The zenith with the sun

In the north

Is June

The nadir in December

If we have fires now

(because it’s June),

They will be for celebration

The fires in December

Are made with archetypal fear

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The easy fires will be back

We’ll cook on them

Not worry what they’re

Driving away

(the winter subjects)

And what they attract

Except for insects

That, though they are numerous,

Have cycles so much shorter than

The ones we own

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C L Couch

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Photo by Kenrick Mills on Unsplash

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Days of Ice and Fire

(x = space)

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Days of Ice and Fire

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My goodness, there are days

And days

So many days in winter

Solstice, Christmas, Saint Stephen’s

New Year’s,

Epiphany

Saint Brigid’s (Imbolc)

Groundhog Day

(Candlemas

more so in the world)

Lunar New Year

All the other new years

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We hope for weather

Hope for seeds

Hope for good crops in spring

Hope for spring itself

A good one,

Only wet enough

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For these hopes,

Having days

And nights

Lighting bonfires

Singing against the cold

Even white madness

In some parts

While in the south,

It’s summer

(we’d only have to look

there

for our hopes)

There are other days

At other times

But winter draws in many,

And they overlap

As cultures,

Folklores

(these days conveniences)

Decide

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We need the hope

We call it SADS to treat

(and must)

But in the old

Of old

It was the awful gathering

(full of awe)

To light the fire

Sing

And hope for more

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To sacrifice, perhaps

Or otherwise negotiate

Life on the season’s

Other side

Bargained fearfully

With god

And god

So many gods

Before we thought

We knew

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C L Couch

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photo by Miroslav Škopek on Unsplash

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Puritan Winter

(x = space)

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Puritan Winter

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Snow covers

Rain reveals

Ice seals it all in

Now comes the

Revealing time,

The winter

Against all our

Boasted showings

The green is gone

The brown and black reveal

Who we are

What we have

How plain it can become

Without verdant protection

Without the sheen

Of summer

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But this is good

We have the chance

To be ourselves,

To rely ourselves

On heat

And goodness from above

Below

The goodness of our neighbors

And the sovereignty

Of God above

Below

Wherever is

Creating

And the mortal need

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C L Couch

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Migrating birds over the misty forests of Norway.

Photo by Fredrik Solli Wandem on Unsplash

Heggenes, Norge

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Visiting with my Brother in Wintertime

(x = space)

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Visiting with my Brother in Wintertime

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Tired now

Just got reconnected

And can write to you

Am in

The Renaissance City

City of Bridges

City of Iron

City of Steel

Where my brother is

And cancer in the city, too

In him

It seems to be consuming him

Turning him in

Like a folder being folded

Movements happens cruelly

The pain is slow

Tomorrow the severer

Treatment starts

How this will work in him

How it will solve anything

Well, it could

It might

I can only pray it must

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C L Couch

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While skiing down the slopes of Big Sky Montana, I took the chance to slow down and look and capture the incredible beautiful scenery around me. Scenes like this seem to center me, with the stillness of snow settling in.

Photo by Jonathan Knepper on Unsplash

Big Sky Resort Road, Gallatin Gateway, USA

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Snow Bunnies

(x = space)

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Snow Bunnies

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And on a wintry day

Dust bunnies come to play

They like the extra morning

Light

That shows the dust to play in,

Right

And should a human passing by

They know where to fly

For them, the winter is THE season

We have to clean—they

Have no reason!

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C L Couch

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another entry in the dust bunny saga

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Camouflage

Photo by Atharva Tulsi on Unsplash

North Dakota, United States

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Holidazing

(x = space)

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Holidazing

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It’s a tarnish day outside

But I hope you have

A good day

You deserve it

For weathering in every way

The season

(in Australia, it goes to

the other way)

You are being careful, I am sure

With tasks and news

What needs doing

What can wait

And silence in between

When you might

Enjoy the stillness

Like untouched snow

On a hill

Before the sledding noise

Takes over,

Which like Currier and Ives

Will bear

Its own bliss

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Photo by Tom Dick on Unsplash

(I hope the message on the sign is civil)

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Looks

(x = space)

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Looks

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Pale sky

As if in compromise

To give late-winter earth

A chance to show itself

Turning slowly

Into spring

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Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

Blooming saffrons in the mountains.

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White Light

(x = space)

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White Light

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It’s all right

I wish it had more yellow

As it is,

It glares

But since I got some sleep

It doesn’t hurt to look at

Maybe the blue and yellow

Are muted in

Winter’s last gasp

The white light a tribute

To what was

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What was

A mild winter, more or less,

With snowstorms

Every now and then

That pounded elsewhere

Worse than what

We got,

Which I’m sorry

Selfishly was fine

White snow on the ground

White light in the sky

Too much

Too much for a claustrophobe

Too much for me

Maybe too much for you

If you live at all

Like me

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C L Couch

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Photo by Caleb George on Unsplash

Deer Herd on a Winter’s Day

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Easy Snow

(x = space)

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Easy Snow

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I might have gotten

In my car, not looking

At three inches’

Newfallen snow

Then got out again

Once I knew the source

Of the sudden darkness

(were it day)

These spits of snow

Have been the normal

For a while

Late winter?

Early spring?

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The groundhog is famous for

Inaccuracy,

Though the fairs are fun

In Punxsutawney

And who trusts a pampered

Creature to tell the weather,

Anyway?

We’d do better to

Look at the sides of wild trees

For direction

And the thickness of the fur

On the denizens

Therein

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C L Couch

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Photo by Babette Landmesser on Unsplash

Sun shines through winter trees on beautiful snowy ground.

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