Searching for Moose (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Down the highway we flew, toward home looking in the woods, looking in the fields, the hills, the water, the ...
Down the highway we flew, toward home looking in the woods, looking in the fields, the hills, the water, the ...
The hawk swooped down falling talons first, down from the sky, out of the blue across my field of vision, ...
Glacial faces before the calving the granite ledges, bedrock framing the highway, interstate plates and layers, uplifted imperceptibly crumbling over ...
snow seen in the valleys off the highway down below, the road I traveled by the brooks, cling to the ...
Pulling out of the lot falling into the fog enveloped by its stillness its wet blanket lost to the noise ...
The clouds sank down down to the pavement between five and seven tonight taillight soup, headlight soup we were swimming ...
I told our story again, yesterday driving down the highway, with strangers sharing our story, of love, of courtship of ...
Hanging on for dear life, even at thirty, she must have regretted her choice to perch on the edge of ...
Driving home, October noontime a hawk to my left, above the tree line, catching the thermals off the highway It ...
Four ducks, before mid-morning sitting, facing the sun, wings hugging against their bodies sitting still in the sunbeams warming the ...
Another driving image as we went down the highway a familiar bit of water a space where a tributary meets ...
Not one, not two, not three, but four poems writing themselves simultaneously a jumble in my mind urging me down ...
A walk in the woods Down the path Away from the road, Bustle of the highway Cold of winter Catch ...
Down the path Away from the road, Bustle of the highway In the inner quiet Cold of winter Emptiness, sadness, ...
Gossamer bags Clutched in the treetops Drink the morning dew Glisten in the early light Tent caterpillar homes, now vacant ...
Were we chasing her Or was she chasing us Down the road Under that starry starry night Lashed in the ...
White knuckles on the wheel holding fast to my lane between the wiper strokes and blur of reckless drivers on ...
A mat of green, burgundy, and brown Covered the skin of the once open water Of the marsh, cut off ...
Like an army general on parade reviewing the troops in the convoy tooling down the highway into battle I drove ...
Harkenings of memories and moments to come. Summer leads to fall Fog over the fields and marshes, the wet places, ...
Early Sunday morning leaving the highway Sparkles off the shoulder draw our gaze Light refracting and pulsing new frost clinging ...
Through the white rims of the slate grey clouds this winter morning I peered upward and saw God's eye Bright ...
Down the path Away from the road, Bustle of the highway In the inner quiet Cold of winter Emptiness, sadness, ...
A walk in the woods Down the path Away from the road, Bustle of the highway Cold of winter Catch ...
A lantern light from deeper in the barn Shone on a man and woman in the door And threw their ...
Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of ...
There is a singer everyone has heard, Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird, Who makes the solid tree trunks ...
One of my wishes is that those dark trees, So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, Were not, ...
But now I pass graveyards in a car. The dead lie, unsuperstitiously, with their feet toward me-- please forgive me ...
"I've been having these awful dreams, each a little different, though the core's the same- we're walking in a field, ...
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