Raymond A. Foss Poems

Back to Poems Page

I guess it was a boy thing.
Eight years old and never
never had she experienced,
never created, willow whips
Choosing one, freshly fallen
to avoid the owner’s ire
the right length for your height
pulling off, carefully, the branches
following the straightest line
leaving a tuff, green leaves
at the end, to snap
A sudden lion tamer.
Rear the tail high, back
crack the whip!
Repeat as we walk on the way home
Remember this yard, where the willow grows
for another day, another harvest

September 1, 2008

Email This Poem to a Friend

Previous Poem | Next Poem

View Raymond A. Foss:  Poems | Quotes | Biography | Books

Copyright © 2006 - 2010 Famous Poets And Poems . com. All Rights Reserved.
The Poems and Quotes on this site are the property of their respective authors. All information has been
reproduced here for educational and informational purposes.