Raymond A. Foss Poems

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The sod, the earth, willingly
giving to the bite of my spade,
soil rich wet loam, clean
clear of rocks, of roots
turning easily to my toil
moving down the row
inch by inch, yard by yard
a lawn being transformed
another step toward becoming
a garden for summer bounty.


May 11, 2009
digging our garden
May 9, 2009

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