From Scattered Seeds of Thought

Fences

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Fences

Fences are positioned,
rising between
and around,
for confining and defining,
separation and division.

Horses don’t like them.
Fences block the way home,
and must be circled,
then plowed through,
or jumped.

In the olden days
people fenced, too.
It was sharper then
and a sport, I suppose,
but mostly a death.

Fences kill nowadays,
in a neck that’s caught,
a vein pierced by barbs,
from prisons of electric wire,
or ripped up self-respect.

Fences lock out some
and lock in others.
They bar freedom
and protect it, but
they're best at exclusion.

Mostly fences are man-made;
I'm almost certain that's true
For in nature, I think,
there are always paths
in and out and in between.

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