Fences

 

We used to sleep on the porch
in our sleeping bags on warm nights
square spindles cutting crisp shadows out of the moonlight
the cats would slip between the rungs and leap
fifteen fearless feet to the ground
a jaw-dropping distance, nothing to them.

My family tells me
when I was a toddler
I pushed my head between the bars of my crib
got stuck
and bawled, red-faced, until my mother
buttered my ears and pulled me free.

Climbing the horse gate, hopping over chain-link to retrieve a ball, squeezing between barbed wire, edging carefully under an electrified one
all my memories of fences
are of boundaries broken
rules defied
for better or for worse

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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