In the Northern Wood (without blaze orange) (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Camera and snowshoes, head down, focused on the little things, the tracks in the layered crust of snow, ice and ...
Camera and snowshoes, head down, focused on the little things, the tracks in the layered crust of snow, ice and ...
I smiled that spring morning thinking of the welcome the songbird got from his mate as he took flight once ...
Up through the leaf litter through the dust, the twigs a mushroom grows in the quiet off the parking lot ...
In the dirt in the space under the pines A town planner toils roads and structures stone walls of gravel ...
To view his stately Walks and Groves, A Man of Pow'r and Place Was hast'ning on; but as he roves, ...
A dear old couple my grandparents were, And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven The lamb that ...
I have had enough. I gasp for breath. Every way ends, every road, every foot-path leads at last to the ...
What Twigs We held by -- Oh the View When Life's swift River striven through We pause before a further ...
I'm saying every day "If I should be a Queen, tomorrow" -- I'd do this way -- And so I ...
I gained it so -- By Climbing slow -- By Catching at the Twigs that grow Between the Bliss -- ...
Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a "Diver" -- Her brow is fit for thrones But ...
You could see the signs which said that possums came at night and fed upon this tree, they left their ...
Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Nor swiftewd greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew, Nor ear heard ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
Window's tree trunk's predominant face a single eye-leveled hole where limb's torn off another larger contorts to swell growing in ...
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip Of sullen light, no obscure ...
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn? Where may the grave of that good man be?-- By the side ...
I'll tell thee everything I can: There's little to relate. I saw an aged aged man, A-sitting on a gate. ...
'Haddock's Eyes' or 'The Aged Aged Man' or 'Ways and Means' or 'A-Sitting On A Gate' I'll tell thee everything ...
I'll tell thee everything I can; There's little to relate. I saw an aged aged man, A-sitting on a gate. ...
Remember the 1340's? We were doing a dance called the Catapult. You always wore brown, the color craze of the ...
The last year's leaves are on the beech: The twigs are black; the cold is dry; To deeps byond the ...
In a wilderness, in some orchestral swing through trees, with a wind playing all the high notes, and the prospect ...
While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry And blackening east that so embitters March, Well-housed must watch ...
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
After yesterday afternoon's blue clouds and white rain the mockingbird in the backyard untied the drops from leaves and twigs ...
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