Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Smell the bold colors,
Rich in my nostrils,
Illuminated on the branches before me as I drive.
Low sunlight piercing the dawn behind me
Pulling me west on a Crayola ‘morn

McIntosh red and day lily yellow
Blood crimson and pumpkin orange
Cinder simmering on the stove
A stick of cinnamon crunched underfoot

Fall hues on the pallet
Memory of construction paper leaves,
Cut with blunt dull scissors,
Mashed potato paste we used
To make our masterpieces
For the kitchen fridge

Malleable colors from the big box
Sharpener in the side, thick with shards, shavings
Evidence of familiarity, of use
Peeling the label back, concentrating
To get the fine point
To stay in the lines

Crisp air, pale blue brightening,
Hard shadows falling
Cirrus in the horizon, bright sun in my rearview
Dead leaves on the yellow line
Taste of vivid color on the wind
Stark in their fleeting purity

Started 10/17/02, with a name
Edited 10/29/02 17:55
Completed 10/30/02 10:50

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