Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Looking to the right, to the left
silver lawns, richly blessed
loving rain, heavy dew
fog resting on the grass,
in the gossamer, the nets
the blades of grass
as if grasping, holding
the tissue of fog
a few moments longer
“look at the fog on the grass I said,”
as we walked toward the school.
“The grass is wet, Dad,”
came the reply from two,
eager to get to the playground
to the bus, to go to school
But, I think I had it right,
not merely wet, but richly blessed
fog held on the grass
by the will of the grass
thin skin of fog
held gently by fingertips alone


May 8, 2009
Suncook, NH
Pembroke Village School

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