Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Frozen in her icy grasp
captured in the frigid stillness
coated by layer on layer
a blanket of white, of grey
a world in cocoon, caught in squall, in flurry
in the cold, soundless murmur
the hidden ripeness in slumber
Held in abeyance, ready to burst forth
in thaw and rebirth

Look carefully, see the maple’s nascent sprig
Poised for spring, for the smell of its flowering
Feel the warming of the sun after the solstice
the hope in the lengthening days
the smell of wood fire, the dance of its flames
Still in January the crunch of boots,
squeal of bitter cold snow
an artic moment fixed in the wintry chill
lost in the brisk clear air
everywhere her grip holds sway
Waiting impatiently for the blooming
of the new season,
encased in the frosty ripeness of winter.

1/16/06 22:50

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