The fence – Cary Briel

Posted on May 29, 2011 in Poetry, Writing

The fence is straight.
It’s an inch out here
but the wind ignores it
and the crows haven’t noticed.
To its posts and planks
the grass huddles and clings.
Ants ascend to their gods—
they stand in its heights
and worship something.
I think they’re wiser.
The sun lights and warms
the fence,
the ants,
and me.
I’ve gone to the roof to cry.
No one looks up but the ants.