The Fence
I’m on this side of the fence
And the animal on the other, whence
I perceive its cunning is intense
And appetite aroused by my presence.
Its docile, immobile stature
Dominated by an icy stare
Alerts me to the carnivore’s nature
If this separation weren’t here.
Eye to eye, our curiosities meet
As time hovers between the variances.
I contemplate wanton cruelty,
Whereas the predator desires freedom.
My resolve is disillusioned
When the big cat swipes and growls,
Which pricks my spine hair to stand on end;
I am afraid, whereas the lion is not.
Today, out along the east property line
Driving in extra posts to shore up
The ancient and decrepit fence
Carol comments on imagining
What it was like out here before radio
When there was only the sound
Of wind and birds and cows,
And I think how it wasn’t that long ago
And how 99.999% of human history
Was just that way
And how I lived a summer like that in my youth
Building a house while camping
Under a pair of big ponderosas
And a sky full of stars.
And how it was the happiest time of my life
But how it too passed
As our life accelerated up through the centuries.
Today mending fence
It’s nice to be reminded of our roots
And recall all the things we must have done
When life was simpler
And having each other
Was all that mattered.
(7/26/26)
white picket fence the American dream
a separation
barking dogs and bad neighbors
old wise keeps peace
White picket fence dream
Started at the waist high
So you could still wave at your neighbors hi
Then to your shoulder
So you could do peer over and scolder
Now it's it above our heads
No more saying hi to neighbors and friends
Just like that fence
Getting further away
So is the dream we all desperately chase
As if in thoughts the quiet road seemed lost
As evening shadows looked longer and dark,
Young winter’s chill felt like December frost,
On tall treetops Sun still looked somewhat stark
But smaller ones were all wrapped in darkness,
Grief-like I felt the sombre shades of grey,
Birds hurried home to their nightlong address
To rest and recoup, fresh for the next day.
In no undue hurry to reach back home,
And trudging slow I saw a sunflower
On a farm’s thorny fence muddied with loam
Bringing to mind’s view a bright face turned dour
Along sad memories of my sister,
Of sunflower looking more sinister.
________________________________________
Sonnet | 11.12.2025 | allusion, sad, sister, sunflower
Note: The reference is to my youngest sister who lost her husband some time back. He was a busy oncologist with directorship of a cancer institute. She too with her own work in the field of education, and only now the two had the time enough to cherish a ripe, mature company of each other to continue with their hobby of literary work. All memories he mind from time to time. Alas, sad memories leave a deep-set scar.
Unyielding, in an otherwise
Unfeeling wintry day.
Meek smilers, head-scarfed. Blizzard- blitzed.
Shine sweet greetings my way.
More of that iced swiping blows up;
Briefly skews the vision:
Two little chubby bullfinches
Perched their low branch upon.
Knowing of my yesterdays;
and how I feel left broken,
Seems that must be the way;
Am I really just a token ?
I have held so many secrets;
yet never was I shaken,
Not until I matured enough;
to know I was forsaken ....
I went on and tried to live;
many times just on the rim,
for in my feelings I did give,
somehow were kind of dim .....
Love , Trust and Happiness,
all left in just a sweep;
My heart again left broken ,
from a promise for to keep.....
I am not as thrilled today ,
to even know she still exists ;
I wish she had just gone away ;
cause somehow I'm left pissed.....
To end my rant of my ill's;
I will repeat as fact,
I hope that chokes on her booze;
and Mom dies of a heart attack
A pink playhouse stood in the yard
but there were no children
as I looked out the upstairs window.
The woman about fifty walked around
and talked on her cell phone.
Her yard was well-kept and one afternoon
a man was mowing it. He did not live there.
She stood in back of her garage one morning
and did not wave as I walked to my car.
A housemate said she was mean.
I couldn’t say.
All I knew was that she kept a fence.
A story longed to fill in the gaps
of what I didn’t know. It begged
to be told.
I had moved into my loft a year ago
after suffering losses to write a new chapter
in my life. Every morning, I looked out
with new eyes to look at the sun
as it peeked over a crown of trees.
I talked with a neighbor across the alley
on Thursday mornings when we took out the garbage
or on the days he hand-washed his vintage cars.
A labor of love, he said.
Every quiet morning the block held dear
our private lives.
Long Shadows
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Contest Judged: 10/9/2025 7:10:00 AM
( 5th Place )
Written: September 30, 2025
The sun drifts past the hills
and the earth presses gently
under my steps.
Shadows remain along the ground
clinging to the last touch of daylight.
The fence leans under the fading sun
its shadow spilling across the ground.
A lone crow tucks its wings and slips
into the approaching night.
I remember walking here with someone
I loved.
Their laughter echoing in the cracks
of the road.
Now, only the shadow of memory
moves with me;
slow, stubborn, unyielding.
Twilight weaves through the trees
and shadows hum of what cannot stay…
lost voices, fading warmth;
slipping soft as wind through fingers.
Cactus needs no fence, No need reins to donkey, Rich needs no degree.
Aged, wetherbeaten.
Repainted.
Aged, wetherbeaten.
Six fence panels
Next to a spotted grey post.
Right, right, wrong, right, wrong, wrong.
Split asunder,
Now siblings, they stand.
Nailed shoulder to shoulder
While wending my way one sunny day
in no particular direction
on stopping for reflection
I took a look at flowers by the rustic fence
beside a gnarled old tree
and was amused to see
beautiful colours and textures
which it seemed to me could only be
a painting picturesque
packed with pinks and reds yellows too
while beyond there lay
a field of green beneath a sky of blue
an avid artist if not gardener
it must have been
to have created
such as the sight I had seen
tho' my words won't describe
don't do justice to the sight I saw
it is etched in my memory
and will remain so evermore
You stand and mock me from afar today,
Ignoring truth disguised behind your fear,
Not knowing who you mock or why you stray.
Cold walls of ignorance grow in the way,
Dividing those who should be drawing near.
You stand and mock me from afar today.
A fragile mind that doubts will often sway,
Distrust prevails, obscured by shadowed sneer.
Not knowing who you mock or why you stray.
But brighter dawns can break the cold array,
When hands reach out with love, not hate, sincere.
You stand and mock me from afar today.
Can we not choose to walk a kinder way,
Where acceptance builds the bonds we hold dear?
Not knowing who you mock or why you stray.
If hearts unlock and move past old dismay,
We’ll find a truth beyond our spite and fear.
You stand and mock me from afar today,
Not knowing who you mock or why you stray.
I walk the path I usually do
on the left side of the fence
Running on the right side there’s you
irrational and without sense.
Hence,
I stop
Make myself small,
And wonder
What if once more the fence were a wall?
In my mind, a memoir of fracture
And there it is, that echoing answer.
So I keep walking
Do not want to catch your attention
But just enough to catch you stalling
Can you not feel the tension?
Prevention
It’s clawing on my heart,
As if I could have changed it
You won’t believe it anyway
My memories, they never fit
Used to run like you
Didn’t know where to
Now you’re dancing
Or jumping or flying
And then you start chanting
And only I hear you crying
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.