A field, not a forest
of swaying red
of red sumac,
warming from yellow to red
in the fall air
warming in the mid-morning sun
red blood red sumac
with ripe fruit hanging heavy
below the red leaves
caught in the breezes
swaying to the rhythm
of the wind
October 7, 2007 2:50pm
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,800+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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