Camera and snowshoes,
dressed in layers
head down, focused on the
little things,
Fresh tracks in the
layered crust of snow,
ice and snow really
the tunnels of the voles,
The turned shape of the
dead leaves,
clinging still to the
branches, the twigs
defying winter
The subtle sound of the
trees
caressing each other,
high in the canopy
a dance called by the
wind
A distinctive crack of
gunfire,
echoing in the still cold
forest
And me, out in the
northern wood,
without any blaze orange
-----
Edited
July 22, 2013
“in
the northern wood – v2”
December
7, 2007
“in
the northern wood”
-----
Edited July 22, 2013
Edited July 22, 2013
“seeing
the words – v2”
December
4, 2007 12:25pm
“seeing
the words”
about
writing poetry, when it is a gift of God,
transcribing
the words God already wrote
All
of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013. All rights reserved.
Contact me at Ray
Foss for usage. See all 23,810+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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