Fence Mending Poem by Ben Partenay
Fence Mending
sun melted paint
like a Dali portrait
i scraped dried flecks
of whitewash, ran
hands and slivers
up and down
old oak
posts.
my clairvoyant neigh-
bor playing god and
whispering her
secrets of the
afterlife
'no roots, ' she
say, 'it's why rocks
will always out-
live the trees'
one day, you
open the door
the dog is gone
the picket fence
is rotting
on the
ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/16/2024 4:08:43 PM # 1.0.0.1119
