Wrecking Fences
- — December 28, 2011
The early onset of night is a gong
My bones respond like bells
Their echoes eaten up by the couch
The seven days since you left
I have sought to let go
Sabotage the horse fence and write
I tore up the whole house
Searching for a crow bar
Instead found bits of myself
In the bookshelves and dusty corners
We had grown together so tight
I walk in circles
Like someone lost in a forest
Except that would be easy
I would just make a fire and wait
Build a hut out of branches
Eat squirrel
Instead I’m reinventing astronomy
It shouldn’t be so hard
My muse strokes my hair at night
A fence is no match for a gang of horses
It’s no accident a wrecking bar is shaped like a crutch
They stand quiet though
Ears cocked instead of kicking the gate
Transfixed by a Buddha’s sermon:
A bell is a cup until struck
