Life With Horace

poetry & essays


Leave a comment

How to mend a fence

It all depends, the farmer said,
on how high the fence and wide the gap.
How tall is just enough to push thoughts out
or hold emotions in, and had I thought of life
enriched by feelings? Is the gap a full on
crop of breaks, or something less,
some oddly chronic stutter of connection,
fluorescence hindered by its oozing ballast.
Can we glue chain split apart, or pickets
freed by loose, bent nails?
It all depends, the farmer said, on how we view
the things that we might do for love.

______________________________
Day 20. The prompt from NaPoWriMo Day 19. To write a didactic poem, instructional. No restraints.


Leave a comment

following awareness

coming up the hill
toward my kitchen door
on greening grass
almost tintless
in the growing dark
I chase my shadow
in moonlight
just strong enough
to make me glad
it is not chasing me

___________________________
Day 19. A shortling about coming home in fading light and a risen moon.