Raymond A. Foss Poems

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A quiet cold woods,
crunch of ice and snow
under the snowshoes,
hear the ski pole pierce the skin
of the layers of frozen ground
down through the white
slide silently as you can
moving effortlessly, seemingly
feel the tug on the muscles
the warm wool scarf,
above the turtleneck
lost in thought and reverence
out in the woods
listening carefully
for the message in
the whisper in the wind

December 14, 2006 21:21

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