Fenceposts

Barbed wire makes illusive shadows the sun is going down slowly, a lazy red spoon in your corner of the sky it must be ten degrees but you've been sitting on that fencepost all day I never asked you questions I know better when you're holding your hands like that, laced together playing with the rings your eyebrows are raised, annoyingly aristocratic you won't tell me what you've been thinking decisions, decisions I smile knowingly, but stop when you look worried it could be the cold but there's a tear on your cheek it was one year ago, I brushed it off with my mitten. You looked at me helplessly "I'm getting an abortion"