Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Driving in the fall ‘morn, light filtering
into the clearing wood; I spied a wall
awakening from its slumber,
no longer shrouded
along its course by brush and branch,
cleared away by ax and saw, felled and hauled
to make someone’s home warmer, this winter

The work of a farmer, a team probably, so long ago
when the land was more field than forest,
before we moved to the cities
and the land went fallow,
returned to the wood it once was
and stone walls were hidden and forgotten
parsed and bisected land
became a forest once more

Now it is visible, a wall without reason
a relic in season, exposed and stark
until snow hides its course

November 5, 2006 17:12

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