the fog rising from the skin of the lake
joining my breath, visible, glinting
in the early fall morning light
melding, joining, dancing
on the wings of the gossamer wind
as if pulled by a string
my canoe drawing me through
my camera, my coffee, steaming still
nestled in the blaze orange life jacket
in the bottom, by my bare feet
a great blue heron
coming into view, around the point
flies skipping upon the water
beads of ripples, touching down
the loon’s dive audible, piercing the water
echoing across the quiet of the morn’
in the stillness of autumn
alone on the lake again
November 20, 2009
Swain’s Lake
Barrington, NH
Fall 2000
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 19,730+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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