Raymond A. Foss Poems

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A motorized voyeur
Driving down the road
By the farm
At the cusp of autumn

A figure toiling in the field, the Garden
In the curtilage of the house and barn
Whiling away a Sunday morning
Movement and color catch the eye
Of the passerby

Blue polar fleece against the cornhusks
And fall’s palette
A hoe cutting the sod and
unwelcome adult weeds

Knowledge of the work, the sweat
The toiling, throughout our lives
Until we return to the dust
From which we came.

9/19/04 14:25 - inspired by a drive on Rte 103 in Bradford, NH this morning and reading about the Fall this afternoon.

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