The Gate

Written by: Kelly McDonald

Ancient graying wood of
Canted posts
Swaying yellow grasses
Dance across
Rusty flaking barbed wire
Containing no more
Than a fading image
Of flicking horse tails
And stomping hooves
Still dutifully clasped 
Connecting the rotting rails
A single coil of braided metal
Holds fast to the
Gate
Which now swings only shadows
Across a dying field
Forgotten