The Fence

In April the senior boys suddenly calm
like horses nodding quietly in their pen
in no hurry now that the latch will shortly lift.

They munch grass, lift their corded necks
to let the breeze sift their manes.
Their heads protrude from the windows

of passing trailers, seeming bored,
but in truth, waiting for the next chance
to lay their ears flat in a gallop.

But the fence, the fence, the fence:
we all – they, too – need that rigid
wooden thing to strain against.

Advertisements

One thought on “The Fence

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s