Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Campsite set
Late afternoon
Late June

Grab a friend
Get the canoe
Head up the brook
The tributary

Portage through the brush
Clearing up ahead
A well of light
Among the trees

Break into open
Unblemished pool
Circled by birch, poplar, and pine

Paddle the weeds
Thick strokes
Pole along
Scrape of reeds, rushes
Push the boughs from our way

A moose chomping ahead
Shower of stagnant water
From his mouth
Rack with molt
Wet legs
Spindles submerged

Feather paddles,
Slide forward
Easy, easy
hush

Too late -
A break for the tree line
Awkward getting out
But silent through the trees
Even with antlers

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