Raymond A. Foss Poems

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In the bramble at the edge of the lawn
Before the woods,
Where pillows of snow perched in winter

Green upon green played
Meshed and netted together
Blocking all view
Of the trees behind

The wooded lot
A distant land
Behind the bramble,
The vines and wild living thatch
At the edge of the tamed place
We claim whilst we tend it.

8/15/05 12:22

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