Raymond A. Foss Poems

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What must she have thought,
when she reached into my jeans pocket
before laundry
and found a muskrat paw
I don’t remember the scream,
no I don’t remember it;
but I might have been at school
or down by the lake
she never mentioned it
probably too painful
to discuss

You see Roger’s dad
was a Trapper,
no really, that’s what he did
for a living
not to get rid of pests,
no he was a real trapper
for pelts for sale
how cool was that!!
At least that’s how
my sixth grade mind responded
what could be better
than that life
sure I can get you
a muskrat paw
he promised
I can’t remember the cost
but it was well worth it
so soft and foreign
to all I had known before
a piece of a living creature
in my pocket
with marbles and other treasures
until wash day

July 19, 2006 18:00

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