Fences

Fences<Flowing fences rising upAcross the lonely land.Tying up the gentle fieldswith quintessential strands.Fields of fallow, shades of greenBecome the fabric thereArtful was the ranchers’ handWho buillt them with such careHow many kinds of fences standUpon this gentle earth?They keep the good, and great things in,They’re of undecided worthThese same fences can be made toTo keep the bad things out.When the night does languish darkAnd eerie things do shout..The strongest of all fencesFrom brick and concrete start,We build them in strange placesWhich include the human heart.These fences shut the people outWe fear to enter in.They keep away the feelings,We don’t know where begin.These fences are so ruggedThey aren’t hard to find;Securely they will lock upCells that close an open mindIlaMae stucki © 5/7/10