Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Coming into the front yard
at the sound of a tiny voice
thinking she had seen our cats
in the window of the house

But it was her tiny fingers
running to the flowering plants
her little hands drinking the smells
waving toward herself
bringing the scents to her face

Smiling and cooing
giggle as she ran from plant to plant
the magic word of pick,
a yellow iris for her mom


May 26, 2010
Suncook, NH


Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010. Contact me at Ray Foss
for usage.

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