Fence 

from behind a distant hill the fence
rushes at me   flinging its barbs at the
empty field, the winded highway

by touching a gnarled fence post
i grow into the earth
below the clumped grass to her soul

when i touch the wire
i feel the damp nostril   the hot breath
of an unseen cow beyond the hill

far from separating   the fences have stitched
the land together   (and us to the land)

   through their steel and wood come the
tremors of a hundred years and lives

 







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