Raymond A. Foss Poems

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High above
the roaring thunder
over the sounds of countless horses
the rush of the shockwave
off the track
a man alone in the crow’s nest
the flies of this stage
the pivotal one
the start, safety, and stop
Like the hunter on with his harpoon
in the bow of the boat, the stem
ready to strike
to throw the dice
here too, ready
for the race, the action
the rpm’s, the whine,
the race, oh the race
let the race begin

July 22, 2006 19:20
remembering climbing into the flagman’s perch high above the track at NH International Speedway, feeling the thrill of it, even when no cars were on the track, feeling the bounce in the structure to hand the force of the wind of the cars when a race is on.

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