Raymond A. Foss Poems

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The mica in the granite
quartz, rosy or clear
jagged shards of beauty
drawing my eyes to come near

The rock of the field
formed in the stone wall
ancient and unmoving
yet yielding to the tree

The moving of the wall
ancient and unkept
covered in lichen
wondering where the years went

No longer holding in
an unused tangible border
left to the passerby
wandering through the forest


February 7, 2011


Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage.

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