Those Cracks In Sidewalks Never Leave

The Purpose of a Fence

Stuck here in this dirt to
protect some precious life –

First, hit hard on every
side then plastered with some
paint.

Then – here in a line I live
beyond those who placed me,
dividing property from left,
and right of center, then
pounded, secured with nails –

In years to come I might
be replace – new fangled
ways to protect these fields
I have learned to love –

Fields I see each breaking
day, then, I could be his
golden gate.

So slap the paint on my
side, coat my nails with
rust, pound my head into
the ground –

It’s life which I protect.

Nancy Duci Denofio
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