Fencing

-

FENCING


He strung a line from the corners

of his belief, staked each post deep 


enough then checked it with a level 

before dropping to his knees


to pull back the loose dirt

and pack it with a mallet. 


The red bucket of Quikrete 

looked on unused, dusting in the shed. 


“I’ve found it the best way of being 

here” he said, “making clear what’s out 


from what’s in, but it’s light men 

who need cement to blame


their boundaries on.” He stood by his post

until a firm shake convinced him 


it would both withstand the elements 

and unearth intact—whole,


and without an axe—come

time to reconfigure again.


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