Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Back out into the wet woods
Walking and hiking
But always looking, watching,
Searching for that one moment
when the beauty of creation
finds a ready observer

Do you really see when
you are out there?
Peer through the underbrush,
the straight lines
for the curve of the slipper
caught in midair above its stem,
lost in the green.
Pink and white
amid the pine, birch,
maple and oak.

Climb the trail
up the granite,
stop to gather mica
watch the mud
see the deer tracks
and crushed princess pine,
framed by checkerberries.

Rush of the falls
curtain down the cliff
Real reward
For my quickened pulse
and wet brow.

Descend again,
but not too fast.
Don’t want to miss
The second act
of the drama.
The actors deserve no less.
My best to the Director.

8/7/04 19:04

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