So rich the stew
the memory coming back to me
the paddle blade
cut into the water
pulling up lily pads
just beyond the causeway
under the cool of the arch
into the lee of the lake
the still, quiet space
Long tendrils in the murky depth
the eggs of the bullfrogs
the algae layered
the smell of muck coming to the surface
pulled up out of the soup
on that day in August
February 11, 2011 and February 12, 2011
started at the House of Purpose coffeehouse
while listening to James L. Hofford reading a story poem
about his childhood during the Great Depression
http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Purpose/298439882520
http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/The-House-Of-Purpose/357853918881
http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/event.php?eid=132438993489979
Hillsboro, NH
February 11, 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.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Pulling Up Lily Pads
Labels:
Canoe,
cold,
creation,
eyes,
Faith,
God,
hearing,
imagination,
memories,
Nature,
New Hampshire,
Poetry Where You Live,
Raymond A. Foss,
river,
senses,
sight,
sound,
summer,
water,
Writing Poetry
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