Raymond A. Foss Poems

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All is quiet in the house,
girls asleep, slowing down
the only sound my fingers clicking these words
the purr of the computer fan, the flashing
red computer light, green power on
a desk lamp sends a cone of light over my typing
a cocoon really of a glow, keeping me up
the electricity hums in the machine
I hear myself breathing, thinking of the next
clatter of the keyboard, the digits of my hands
move in unison toward the touch typing of the letters
the motion of the writer, crafting language from the
clicking of the keys, the whir of the fan,
the ache in my elbow as I lean away from the screen
the static electricity of the cathode ray, the warmth
of the incandescent bulb, the arc of its lighting
pressing onward in the words the thoughts later at night
in the quiet in the office after the girls are asleep
before I join them in slumber
after the typing is done and the period added
at the end of the page.

October 30, 2006 22:50

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