Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Off in the distance
Rising heavenward before me
as I draw toward home,
late this September afternoon

White lines in the sky
Hanging like aquatic arms
Below the glinting
silver belly of the beast

Elongating in my vision
as I stick my head out the window
at the stop light, joining the other gawkers

Aerial tendrils,
Vapor and vacuous ephemera
Lost in the jet stream
Like morning steam above the pond
or faces in a cloud

10/1/04 21:15

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