Barbwire

I don't know when the crying ended or how deep the barbwire was buried I didn't even know how far it extended I found it, running away from the Rhubarb Almost lost wanting to be free from one home to the next house The next house was an old lady The next house was at the edge of the woods All the Scotch broom was between me and there I was running, eager to play at the house past the old lady because they were my age and maybe they could understand or explain why I was running away from my house my house was a big red house that felt lonely I didnt have any friends in that house even when they would pretend to be I ran through yellow flowers and grass and suddenly tripped, felt fire it wasn't grass it was barbwire Half buried, like it didn't matter anymore it probably ran underground for a mile only surfacing sometimes to remind me