Feeling fences

 

 

 

Grass and unseen shadow spears,
a line of lime-washed stakes he nears.
He got a sense of a fence,
for he could feel the pointed picket spears.
And thence he knew, …
where this space ends,
and another begins.

Image credit: SueAnn

dVerse Poet prompt. Poetics: Through the artist’s lens

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22 thoughts on “Feeling fences

    • Thank you, rmp. Indeed, I was referring to boundaries, which we can’t see, but can nevertheless perceive (or don’t see, but could, if we were aware) …

  1. smiles…interesting look at the fences…i guess knowing our boundaries can be a good thing…and i guess the key is will he jump it an keep going or…smiles…there is a nice dance to the rhythm of this…

    • Thank you, Chris, for seeing all those things in this poem. The humour was achieved by moulding the poem in roughly the shape of a limerick. And you’re an expert at very compact work, so your comment is a real compliment to me. 🙂

  2. Wonderful piece, loved how much you combined in the words and the gaps, just like a fence. Also, for some reason I enjoyed looking at your poem sideways and seeing it visually as a fence. 🙂

  3. Interestingly enough, I was in Berlin last weekend and was musing a lot about walls, fences, what keeps us in or out. A lot of content in a very small format, really lovely!

    • Thanks, Marina. It is good that the remnants of the wall make us think about it so that we cannot forget. The Berlin wall always leaves a lump in my throat when I look at how it was constructed.

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