Raymond A Foss Poems

Listening to the timpani
the rhythm of the rain
the rap, the tap,
the ratta-tat-tat,
...

snow seen in the valleys
off the highway
down below, the road I traveled
...

The love of self,
of our earthly wealth
a lie upon the earth
...

We think it is so distant
the judging of others
racism, bias,
...

At the journey's end,
a time of reflection, of sharing
of giving of ourselves
...

Maybe it is the memories
the change of pace that brings us there
the sense of vacation
...

A tapestry is being stitched
story by story,
step by step, thread by thread
...

It all starts
with the quality,
the density, the size
...

An urgent call
a race down the dark stairs
a flicker of color as I ran outside
...

lonely in a crowd
different from the rest
separate, apart
...